


Take me to the Riot

by kingiamesbible



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arthur is a royal mess, British politics is dumb, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone's oblivious to everyone else's feelings, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Merlin has a Blog, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Character, Slow Burn, That all good enemies to friends to lovers trope, There's still magic though, Trans Character, each chapter will have any necessary warnings, everyone gets put through hell because im a horrible gremlin man, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:43:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingiamesbible/pseuds/kingiamesbible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has to keep a lot of things hidden. He's a sorcerer living in a country where magic has just been outlawed by the King, for one. All his life has been riddled with secrets. Among riots, reunions, and royals, the surprise emergence of the prince into his life makes those secrets much harder to keep</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently been thrown back into the abyss of pain and suffering that is BBC's Merlin and I thought I'd rekindle the 2008-12 flame of my youth to finally write this AU that's been in my head for a while now. I'm almost certain I can't be the only one who refuses to let this fandom die so if you're one of those people, I hope you enjoy this, this is for you. 
> 
> (Title taken from Take Me To The Riot by Stars, which is an excellent song and very fitting to this story)
> 
> Sidenote - Mordred is nonbinary in this and uses they/them pronouns, just to avoid any confusion!

There was a note on the table, lying in wait for Merlin's return home. The text was printed in Hunith's neat handwriting, letting her son know that she was working the late shift that night and there was some pasta in the pot on the cooker for dinner if he wanted it. After getting himself a bowlful and sitting at the kitchen table to eat it, he texted Gwen to let her know he was home safe, then sent a similar text to Hunith.

His mother was old fashioned in some of her ways. While she did not oppose the new technological age, she admitted frequently to be out of her depth and so stuck to writing notes for her son to find around the house. She kept an old brick phone that he sent messages to to let her know he had found them, and she didn't respond, but he knew she read them. It was how they had done things for a long time in their house. It was one of the many things he found charming about her.

It was only a few minutes before Gwen responded, confirming that she too had made it home unscathed. The streets of London were heavy with activity these days.

This was not for no reason. The prime minister, Aredian Elfred, was proposing a law to ban all practises of magic and to shun those who used it, and it was fair to say many people were unhappy with this. For weeks after his announcement, sorcerers and allies of magic alike were out in the city centre, shouting and brandishing strongly worded signs; there were riots and protests every other day to try and put a stop to this law being approved by the king. Everyone knew the king was no fan of magic himself, but that didn't stop groups of sorcerers - young and old - from trying to appeal to Uther Pendragon's humanity.

Merlin went to almost every protest. He and his friends, Gwen and Mordred, were strong believers in letting magic users have the freedom to practise their craft, and they were determined to do whatever they could to show their support. They had even rallied supporters and led riots of their own, once or twice. All three of them were closely tied to the cause, in ways which were bigger than simply being passionate about what they stood for, and they used this to their advantage. Mordred worked alongside Morgause Fairhurst, an open sorceress and radio host who felt as strongly about the injustice of the hate against magic users as they did. Merlin ran a popular blog filled with articles about trying to bring a stop to the hate and prejudice aimed at sorcerers and which generally advocated for giving magicians the same human rights as everybody else. And Gwen probably held the highest position of exposure of them all: she was the personal handmaiden of princess Morgana, king Uther's rebellious pro-magic daughter.

According to Gwen, she and Morgana were very close and the princess always confided in her. At first she had been very private about her misgivings surrounding Aredan's dislike for sorcerers, trusting Gwen alone with her feelings, but after a while, she began to become more open with it, and often spoke in public about wrong people were to see magic users as dangerous and evil. More than once, she gave passionate speeches against her father's word, expressing her opinion that magic users were all different, just like non magic users and that not all of them were out to cause harm. It was unfair, in her view, that they should be judged by the actions of a view who have used magic in corrupt ways, and instead as individuals as the rest of the population is. Sorcerers should not have to hide their abilities, she told numerous interviewers, they should be free to practise the art of magic in peace without fear of prejudiced old men condemning them for things that happened when they were young. She often appeared on television or was heard on the radio, furious, passionate and ready to take on anyone who challenged her opinion, including the prime minister and indeed her own father. Direct quotes from her often appeared on Merlin's blog.

But unfortunately, for every one supporter she gained for the cause, there were many more who wanted her silenced and the cause crushed. There were many opposers who were either still stuck in the old days, or ignorant of the struggles sorcerers faced, or just scared and moving with the crowd, and they, of course, retaliated. It was not unheard of for magic users and allies of every age to come to serious harm at the hands of an anti-magic campaigners. There had even been a few reported deaths, but no one was ever charged or found guilty. Even before the law had been approved, sorcerers were treated with less humanity than everyone else.

The law was being approved or disproved the same evening that Merlin came home to his mother's note. He had spent most of the day outside the Houses of Parliament with Gwen and hundreds of other sorcerer's human rights protesters, causing havoc in the city in order to try to draw attention to the injustice. They had only those few hours left to try to get Uther to see their way of thinking. Morgana herself was among them, shouting, holding up signs and pumping her fist in anger alongside her fellow supporters. In just a few minutes, Uther would announce whether he would approve the proposal of Aredian, or listen to his own daughter's reasoning and refuse to let the law pass. Almost every magic user in the country would be listening to Morgause's report on it that night.

At 10:55pm, five minutes before the announcement, Merlin's doorbell rang. He dashed to answer the door and was unsurprised to see Mordred waiting there, looking grim. Without a word, Merlin moved aside to let his friend in.

"Morgause has Morgana in the studio with her," Mordred said as they followed Merlin into the kitchen. They moved towards the radio and tuned it to the right station. "Morgana doesn't know what her father has decided but there's a possibility it could get nasty up there."

"That could be bad for Uther," Merlin muttered, clenching his fists around the sleeves of his shirt and sitting at the table to listen to Morgause's voice.

"Good," Mordred scoffed. "Let him realise how dangerous his daughter really is to his good name."

"His name hasn't really been good for a long time," Merlin sighed, shaking his head. "Half the country despises him."

Mordred gave a _yeah, that's true_ shrug and then remained quiet. The announcement was beginning.

"Good evening," the king began, sounding as cold and stony as ever, "as you must all know by now, a law has been proposed by the prime minister, Aredian Elfred, to ban all use of magic in the UK."

He went on to explain some of the terms and finer details of the law. Merlin barely listened. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he almost feared he would miss the verdict for the noise in his ears.

"It has been a tough deciding on whether or not to let this law pass," Uther went on, and Mordred gave a sharp bark of disbelieving laughter. "I have heard both sides of the argument, and both sides have been very convincing, but I have finally reached a verdict."

Merlin held his breath while Morgause filled Uther's pause with, "this is it: the decision that could change our lives for better or worse."

"For the good of this country, I have decided to approve the law banning all practices of magic. Anyone found doing so will be arrested immediately. Known sorcerers will be expected to give up all artefacts, books and anything linking them to magic to the police."

"Bastard!" Mordred yelled, slamming their fist on the table as they rose from their chair and making the radio shake. Merlin just sighed.

"It was always going to be this way," he said quietly, and Mordred let out a despairing groan.

"I can't believe this!" they went on, pacing back and forth across the kitchen. "I can't believe we have to hide now! They're treating us like..like monsters! All because we have a gift they weren't given."

"Keep your voice down," Merlin told him, miserably, "someone might hear you."

 

x

 

It was very quiet the next day. Barely anyone left their house, magic user or otherwise. Merlin had half expected the anti-magic protesters to be outside singing and jeering their success, but no one did. It was as if regular people were afraid of angered sorcerers using their powers to strike in protest, and the magic users were afraid of being arrested or killed the second they left their house. In fact, this was the most likely explanation. Everyone was hiding from everyone else.

After the announcement, Morgana had exploded. She used the most colourful words public radio would allow to insult her father and tell him what a huge mistake he had made and how she would not stand for it, yelling some truly inspiring things into her microphone to cheers from Morgause and other employees of the station. Her speech seemed like a call to arms for sorcerers and allies, and for a moment hope was rekindled, but it didn't last long. No one was brave enough to put themselves as sorcerers anymore. Uther's threats of arrest and persecution as well as Aredian's notoriously violent police force crushed the rebellious spirit in the sorcerers of the country. For now, they just wanted to be safe. Revolution would come later.

Merlin still made the short journey to work. Maybe sorting the old books in Gaius's shop and exchanging a few words with customers would distract him, at least a little, from the blow that had been struck the night before. Maybe he would start on his latest blog post about the law being passed while the shop was empty.

Gaius greeted him with a tight hug, and they stayed like that, wordless, for a long time. Merlin thought he might cry, but he wasn't surprised when he didn't. It wasn't a big shock. Uther was ignorant and bigoted and he knew that already, but that didn't change the fact that he was upset. For years he had pretended to only be an ally, hoping for the day when he could pluck up the courage to come forward and announce himself a sorcerer. Now it seemed that day would never come. Still, he didn't cry. He just hugged Gaius back tightly, glad to have him there.

It was odd how little seemed to have changed. At least, on the surface. People still came into the bookshop and smiled at him as normal, but there was an unspoken feeling of either glee or despair in the customers. Merlin could tell whether they were pro or anti magic by their attitude, how they held themselves, whether they smiled at him sadly or as if they had just won the lottery. He cursed the latter in his head, spitting dark insults at them mentally, hating the fact they would never have to hide who they were from anyone. How dare they come in and grin at him like that when he had been condemned to a life of secrecy and fear of revealing his powers. But he said none of that. He served them as he would any other customer, even if his smiles for them were a little forced.

By one o clock, the day had passed fairly normally. Gaius left for his lunch break as usual, leaving Merlin to hold the fort. The shop was empty for a good half an hour before the bell above the door rang frantically and someone shoved their way into the shop in a panicked manner, startling Merlin out of his chair.

A tall, broad shouldered blond stood in front of the door, panting heavily and looking around him with suspicious eyes.

"Can I hide here for a moment?" he gasped out, clearly short of breath as if he had been running.

"Um, I don't-" Merlin began, eyeing the stranger with caution.

"Please, just while the cameras pass," he went on, gesturing to the empty street outside.

"Cameras?" Merlin gaped.

"Yes, cameras," the blond snapped, rolling his eyes. "You know, click, snap, picture, surely you know what cameras are?"

Merlin straightened up, frowning.

"Who are you and why are cameras following you?" he demanded. "And why should I let you hide here?"

Suddenly, shouts and eager yelling could be heard from around the corner, and the blond swore.

"Look, I'll only be a second, if they ask for me just say you haven't seen me okay?"

With that, he dashed behind a bookcase.

Merlin followed him and watched as he brought his knees up to his chin and made himself as small as possible in the corner behind the bookcase. He raised an eyebrow at him, amused all of a sudden.

"If I'm going to deny I've seen you I've got to know who you are," he pointed out, leaning against the bookcase with a calmness that seemed to irritate the stranger. Good. Serves him right for being rude.

The stranger gave him an incredulous look then sighed frustratedly.

"Arthur. My name is Arthur."

Just as Merlin had nodded his acknowledgement and strolled back to the front of the shop, a large mob of paparazzi came to a stop before the glass shopfront. A chunk of the camera-wielding wedge broke away and pushed themselves into the small store, looking like shipwrecked travellers looking for water.

"Have you seen him?" one demanded, their searching motions so exaggerated Merlin had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing.

"Seen who?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Arty!" another said, as if it were obvious.

"Arthur?" a third prompted, again, as if Merlin was supposed to know who this guy was.

"Sorry, haven't seen him," he lied, shrugging indifferently, and the entire group of reporters groaned in almost perfect sync.

"He cant've gone far," the first announced, and led them back out the door and away down the street, resuming their yelling.

When they were safely out of sight and earshot, Arthur peered round the side of the bookcase and sighed loudly, causing Merlin to turn to him.

"What do they want with _you_?" he asked, leaning against his desk and folding his arms. Arthur's mouth fell open slightly.

"No idea," he replied, but it sounded sarcastic. "Not like I'm anything special."

"I can see that," Merlin agreed, looking the man up and down.

Arthur laughed, a short burst of laughter as if he was accepting a challenge.

"Thanks for your help anyway," he said, "I think I can forgive you for that last comment."

Merlin scoffed.

"Sure."

When Arthur didn't make a move to leave, Merlin went to open the door for him, making an exaggerated bow motion and giving him his best sarcastic smile. He did move then, stopping in the doorway to fix Merlin with a blue-eyed stare, as if Merlin was a puzzle he needed solving. They held eye contact for a few seconds, before Merlin began to find it odd and coughed conspicuously .

"Bye," he said, extra loudly, so Arthur got the message. Eventually, he did, and stepped back out onto the street and out of Merlin's sight.

 

x

 

Unless it was an emergency, or something incredibly important, Mordred never called Merlin from work. Considering the law that had passed the day before, Merlin panicked as soon as he saw Mordred's work number pop up and his heart rate picked up considerably for a good few seconds until Mordred calmed him down and informed him that they had not been arrested yet. It was, in fact, very good news.

"I managed to get you in for a interview with princess Morgana herself!" they told him excitedly, and Merlin could hear the grin on their face. "If you put that on your blog, it could attract loads of attention and it would be great publicity for the cause!"

This news sent Merlin's head spinning, a giddy smile taking over his face. He had to take a few deep breaths in and out before he could reply.

"How on earth did you manage to get me an interview with the _princess_?" he finally asked, his voice almost as high and excited as Mordred's.

"Oh well," Mordred began, "Morgause and I were talking and she mentioned your blog. I told her I was friends with you and she suggested that I ask you to do a piece with her as a sort of rally for more protests."

"Morgause knows Morgana?"

"Morgause is Morgana's half sister, stupid."

"Oh wow," was all Merlin could say, leaning back in his chair. He had interviewed celebrities before, but never anyone of this calibre. This was the royal family they were talking about.

"So are you up for it?" Mordred prompted when Merlin was quiet for a long time.

"What? Yes, yes of course I am," Merlin replied, nodding his head even though Mordred couldn't see. "Like you said, it's good publicity."

"Great!" Mordred chirped. "Is Wednesday ok?"

Merlin pushed the wheelie chair over to check his calendar. He hummed thoughtfully to let Mordred know he was finding out, and gave him a quick "yup" as confirmation.

"Fantastic, I'll let Morgause know," Mordred said finally. "And Merlin, be careful. You know Morgana's not the only one living in that palace."

On that note, they hung up.

 

x

 

Wednesday came quicker that Merlin anticipated. He was prepared, of course, but the thought of interviewing the princess was still rather daunting. Especially considering the fact that the possibility of running into Uther was not completely off the table.

Gwen assured Merlin that Morgana was nice enough, but as Mordred had said, her father lived in the palace with her too. He didn't want to think about how awkward it would be explaining to him why he was there. He wasn't even sure Uther knew he was coming. These thoughts plagued him endlessly as Morgause pulled up to the palace gates, and he was seriously starting to rethink the offer. His heart pounded in his chest, hot fear pooling in his stomach and making him feel sick all of a sudden. Morgause must have noticed and guessed his concerns, because she put a careful hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry," she said softly, "Uther is busy today. He won't bother you."

A rush of relief hit him then, the pulsing heat subsiding somewhat and leaving him feeling more at ease, finally. He nodded at Morgause in thanks, and she smiled at him once more before slipping back into her car and leaving him alone at the front of the palace.

Soon enough, a man came to greet him at the gates and led him unsmiling across the courtyard and inside Buckingham Palace. Although Merlin had very little respect for most royals and their lavish lifestyle, he couldn't help but be a little impressed. The whole floor was draped in sleek red velvet; the walls were a deep crimson and decorated with portraits framed with gold. Mahogany furniture was meticulously arranged across the entrance hall: a large chest of drawers holding a delicate vase of exotic flowers, a small table surrounded by a scattering of chairs, and of course the swirling banister that guarded the ruby-carpeted stairs. Behind the stairs, Merlin could see a long corridor leading to numerous more rooms, but the butler (George, Merlin thought him say his name was) led him past all that and straight upstairs, looking back only to check that Merlin hadn't broken anything. He got a filthy look when George noticed him trailing his hand up the banister, and so pulled his fingers away immediately. They finally reached a smaller landing (though smaller in this case was by no means small) and George paused to finally look at him properly.

"Wait here while I fetch the lady Morgana," he instructed, still not smiling or showing any sort of emotion at all. "I won't be long."

Maybe that was supposed to be an attempt at friendliness, but Merlin heard it as _I'll be back soon so there's no point sitting down and filthying up the place_. He was tempted to sit down on one of the plush armchairs just to spite George, but thought better of it. He had no idea what Morgana was like in person and he wanted to at least try to make a good impression.

While he waited, he noticed a glass cabinet, housing what looked like a selection of jewellery. Impossibly curious, he stepped forward to take a closer look, and saw that the case was indeed packed with necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, and other precious ornaments, all set with a rainbow of different jewels. Rubies, emeralds, and diamonds winked up at him, and despite knowing that there was enough in there to finance the whole country twice over, he stood in awe of the intricate craftsmanship.

"I'd be careful with those if I were you."

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice Merlin whipped round, and when he saw who was standing in a now open doorway, his blood turned to ice in his veins.

It was Arthur.

Oh, God.

 _Prince_ Arthur.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments? talk to me on tumblr at [gxryking](http://gxryking.tumblr.com/) <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to upload, it was mostly due to the fact that half of it got deleted and I had to rewrite the whole chapter. Future updates will probably be a lot quicker! Thanks to anyone who left kudos and comments, it really means a lot <3

Merlin didn't make it his business to follow the comings and goings of the royal family. He hardly took an interest in them until Morgana started on her pro-magic warpath, and even then his only interest was in her. Of course, he was aware Uther had a son, as he was the next in line for the throne, but Merlin didn't care much for him. The prince seemed to share his father's views about magic being evil, and although he was somewhat more rational in his thinking and much less extreme, he still seemed far too willing to take action against magic. Merlin usually switched the TV off whenever he made a public appearance.

So, it wasn't really his fault if he hadn't recognised him. He was an arrogant, halfwitted brute who's presence made Merlin immediately switch channels. He hadn't really ever got a proper look at his face.

Arthur seemed almost as surprised to see Merlin as Merlin was to see him. The confusion turned quickly to recognition, then a gleeful glint appeared in his eyes which was almost spiteful. They were on his turf now.

"Have we met?" he asked, striding forward purposefully and making Merlin hate him even more.

"I believe you came barging into my bookshop begging to be hidden from the paparazzi," Merlin replied curtly. The rest of the country may kiss this boy's feet, but he wouldn't.

"Oh, that's right," he nodded, an infuriating smirk creeping into his face. "You didn't think I was anything special."

Merlin held his ground.

"Are you always such a prat when you want people's help?" he asked, folding his arms tightly (protectively) across his chest.

"You can't talk to me like that," Arthur scoffed, looking at Merlin like he had just grown a third eye, the smirk dropping from his face.

"Oh, right, my mistake," Merlin said quickly, waving his hands in a mock apologetic gesture. "Are you always such a prat when you ask for people's help, your highness?"

"Who do you think you are?" Arthur growled, stepping further into Merlin's personal space and staring him down. Merlin tried his best not to look fazed, but he could feel his neck growing hot under Arthur's feral gaze.

"He's my guest, Arthur," a smooth voice rang from above, and both of them looked up to see Morgana striding down the stairs with equal parts grace and nonchalance. "I would appreciate it if you would not maim him before he's had the chance to meet me."

Despite himself, Merlin shivered. Thankfully, Arthur took a step back.

"He needs to learn some respect," Arthur protested, fixing his sister with a glare for a moment before turning it back on Merlin.

"And you're the last person who should be teaching anyone respect," Morgana replied cooly, taking Merlin's shoulders and leading him towards a door on the opposite side of the landing to where Arthur had emerged. "Go sulk somewhere else."

She led Merlin into a small lounge, shut the door on a very miffed-looking Arthur, then immediately turned and smiled at Merlin.

"Sorry about my brother," she sighed, looking somewhat amused, "he can be a real ass sometimes. Now, shall we get started?"

x

The interview ran smoothly, and was over a lot quicker than either of them expected. Morgana took to Merlin immediately, finding him charming and sweet, and he in return thought she was witty and smart and very well spoken. It started to feel more like an actual conversation than an interview. Every question he gave her was answered easily, and fully, with a lighthearted tone despite the weight they both felt after the law passed. He found her to be very agreeable, as well as pleasantly funny, and he found himself nodding in understanding or laughing with her a lot, until he almost forgot he was talking to a royal. She treated him as an equal. A friend.  
When the timer bell rang, indicating that was the end of the interview, Morgana looked dismayed. Merlin was rather disappointed himself; he had hoped to talk with her for a little longer but he got what he came for. His notepad was half full.

Just as he made a move to gather his things however, Morgana stopped him and implored him to stay and have tea with her, and maybe go into more depth with his views. This was another thing he liked about her: she often gave him opportunities to add something to one of her points and she listened intently. People he interviewed usually took no interest in what he thought, and this was a nice change. Who was he to refuse?

At one point, Morgana invited Arthur in to join then, and despite his claims of having better things to do, he came in and sat in the chair next to Morgana and opposite Merlin, sitting quietly while the other two chartered and occasionally looking up to glower at Merlin. If he had any redeeming features at all, Merlin was yet to see them. So far he had been nothing but rude, arrogant and downright snobbish. It was difficult to believe he and Morgana were siblings.  
After a while, Arthur left them alone again, but not before giving Merlin a final dirty glare. Once he had shut the door behind him, Merlin felt himself relax his shoulders. He hadn't even realise he had tensed up.

"Don't pay any attention to him," Morgana laughed, rolling her eyes. "He's just angry because you don't think he's the best thing since sliced bread."

"Why does he care?" Merlin couldn't help but ask. "Everyone else does. Why does it matter what I think?"

Morgana sighed and gave her head a gentle shake, making her black curls dance around her shoulders.

"He reads your blog."

Merlin's stomach flipped. He didn't take Arthur for the reading type, let alone reading social justice blogs online. His social justice blog.

"He reads my blog?"

Maybe he heard wrong. That made absolutely no sense. Why would prince Arthur, a man blatantly against sorcerers' rights, want to read a blog that was almost exclusively pro-magic propaganda?

"He loves it," Morgana told him, lowering her voice. "It fuels the rebellious spark in him. It may not seem like it, but he doesn't fully agree with what our father thinks of sorcerers. He's a work in progress, but I'll make a revolutionary of him yet, with help from you, of course."

He didn't quite know how to respond to this information. Almost everything he thought he knew about Arthur was untrue, not even considering the fact that the prince of England read his blog. It was a lot to take in, even if it didn't change the fact that Arthur was brash and cocky.

"That's, um," Merlin managed after a few seconds. "That's- wow."

Morgana chuckled over the rim of her teacup, but it wasn't unkind.

"He may be an egotistical bastard but he does have a loose idea of what is and isn't justice," she smiled, fixing him with an icy blue gaze that was so similar to the one Arthur had given him in the bookshop it made his skin prickle. "You'll help me in getting him on our side, won't you Merlin?"

Was she inviting him back? It sounded like it.

"Uh, sure," he nodded, suddenly not wanting to finish his tea. His stomach was starting to turn uncomfortably.

"Excellent, then I'll be in touch," she declared finally, setting her cup back on the tray and getting to her feet. He followed suit, albeit a little stiffly.

She walked him out and saw him to the gate, which he was glad for, since it meant avoiding George. Her warm parting smile relaxed him a little, and it wasn't as if he was totally opposed to the idea of seeing her again. It was just the fact that that presented many potential dangers. Running into the king, for one. Revealing his magic, for another. Somehow hurting Gwen's chances of keeping her job.

But he could hardly say no to Morgana. He told her that he would be glad to meet and talk to her again, and he would do whatever he could to support her rallies for support. She beamed, and kissed him on the cheek before opening the gate to let him go.

It felt like returning to another world. The dim grey skies of London seemed more pale than usual, and the dull colours of the city seemed infinitely more muted after being surrounded by the bright colours and finery of the palace. A cold wind whipped through his hair, making him shiver and hug his shoulders tighter. After the cracking fire and warmth of Morgana's welcome, he realised how truly cold his city could be.

The southbank was eerily quiet as he walked along the riverside, only a few people milling about on benches and amongst the trees. Even the buskers seemed to have gone indoors. Aredian's law had hit everyone a lot harder than he originally thought it would.

He supposed he couldn't expect people to be out on the street protesting against it immediately. People would need time to process the information, and find friends who needed comforting or they wanted comfort from. It was unfair to assume that there would be instant action. For those already out who were being robbed of all their magical possessions, it was a large chunk of their life being suddenly taken away. They might not be ready to take to the streets for a long time. As for those in hiding, they obviously wouldn't want to out themselves, and starting riots would be a sure way to attract attention and suspicion. Even though a large amount of protesters were usually allies, like Gwen, it was the worst time to try and take the risk. It was better to wait a while. Make plans. Stir up the masses in other ways. Strategise.

With Morgana's support, though, Merlin strongly believed that the protests would begin again soon. She was influential and many sorcerers and allies alike looked up to and admired her. They could get a lot done with her on their side. And if they managed to convince Arthur too..  
Merlin was home by the time these thoughts had finished swirling around his head. There was another note saying Hunith was working late, so he put away his laptop and notepads before texting Gwen to make sure they were still on for movie night. A few minutes later, his phone pinged with a message demanding he came over right now and tell her how it went with Morgana. With an odd mix of melancholy and fluttering hope rising in his chest, he set out and made his way towards Gwen's house.

x

Arthur was brooding in his room, as Morgana expected.

She stepped inside without knocking - they had passed that point a long time ago - and approached his bed with a smug smile on her face. When he finally looked up at her, she leant her hip against one of the wooden posters and folded her arms.

"Finally got to meet your idol, huh?" she grinned.

"Shut up Morgana," he huffed, turning his attention back to his laptop. She had no intention of doing so, and plopped down on the mattress next to him.

"So, what did you think?" she prompted, nudging his shoulder. "Was he everything you expected and more?"

"No," he bit out, not looking up to meet her eyes. "He spoke to me like-"

"Like a person?" Morgana interrupted. "I thought you would appreciate someone talking to you honestly and not trying to kiss your ass just because you're the prince."

At this, Arthur turned to her, eyebrows raised. Her smirk had gone and she looked serious, almost scolding.

"Well, I guess but-"

"But nothing," Morgana snapped, holding her finger up to his face and making him go cross-eyed. "Brutal honesty is good for you."

Arthur sighed, and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit she was right. But she knew she was, and he knew she knew. They read each other well.

"If you say so," he said finally, turning back to his screen again.

"I do," she said, smiling again. "Now, I'm seeing him again at Gwen's on Friday."

"So?"

"So I want you to come with me."

This was met with a groan. They always snuck out of the palace for Morgana to go somewhere on the sly and Arthur hated it. If their father found out, they would never be allowed outside the palace walls again. He would be furious.

Yet Morgana insisted, and Arthur knew she wouldn't stop pestering until she got her way. Which she always did. Despite her rebellious attitude and deception, she could still charm Uther to do or get whatever she wanted. In his eyes, Morgana could do no wrong. Even when she was out on the streets, screaming for equal rights for sorcerers, he claimed she was going through a confusing time in her life and would soon come around. Arthur doubted he would be so lucky, and so never dared to venture out to the streets when a riot was in swing. Though he hated to admit it, he was scared. His sister wasn't. She was fearless, and he would never say so, but he admired her courage and ability to argue with their father.

So, begrudgingly, he agreed to sneak out with her on Friday. She beamed at his easy acceptance, giving him a one-armed hug which he leant in to just slightly. They weren't the most affectionate siblings, but they had their moments.

Her smile dropped, however, as soon as they heard their father's voice ringing through the hall outside Arthur's room, calling them down to eat. As she sighed and moved to slide off Arthur’s bed, Arthur grabbed her arm.

“Can you try not to start a fight with him?” he pleaded, locking their eyes together. “For once?”

"We better go," Morgana said coldly, pointedly not answering him and pulling out of his grip. "Dogs get angry when they're kept waiting."

Arthur watched her leave the room, sadly, but said nothing.

x

Every Wednesday was movie night. Neither Gwen nor Merlin could remember when it really started, but the tradition had stuck and they had been doing it for almost a year. It was usually held with a few of their other friends, but they had been away on active service for two months, so it was just the two of them until the others came home. They would take it in turns to host; one week it would be at Gwen’s house, and the next would be at Merlin’s. The evening was usually spent chatting and laughing together on the sofa, with a film playing as background noise, until the both drifted off to sleep with a bowl of popcorn still resting loosely in their arms. It was nice. It was normal.

That particular evening was Gwen's turn. When she opened the door, she had a bowl of something tucked in her arm which she was whisking it frantically, and she grinned when she saw him with a manic glint in her eye. He had barely stepped through the door when she began interrogating him. As she bustled about the main room and the adjoining kitchen, he did his best to answer her questions, considering they were coming at him at top speed. Finally, she flicked the TV on and the opening credits of Some Like it Hot popped up onscreen as she curled up next to him on the sofa. As usual, the movie played in the background underneath their excited chatter. Her happy face never faltered as he recounted the events to her, and she smiled especially wide when he gushed about how wonderful Morgana was, telling her that she was in equal parts terrifying and brilliantly witty, and how she made him feel right at home in the palace.

Just as he was about to tell her about his encounter with the prince and how badly he wanted to punch the smirk off his face, the doorbell rang, and they turned in the direction of the hallway before turning back to each other with puzzled looks.

"Who could that be at this time of night?" Gwen wondered aloud, and Merlin shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "I'll get it."

Gwen swung her legs off his lap so he could stand up, and he padded into the opening hallway, rubbing his eyes as he did so. With a yawn, he reached for the handle and swung the door open. For a moment, he stopped breathing.

"Are we late?"

Then, suddenly, his face lit up and he was throwing his arms around Lancelot's neck, laughing with joy. He felt Lance's smile against his cheek as his friend squeezed him back tightly.

"Don't hog him, Lance," a sarcastic whine came from behind them, and Merlin released Lance to see Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan standing in the doorway, beaming when he noticed them.

"You're home!" Merlin breathed, moving around Lance so they could wrap him in a group hug. Still smiling so widely it hurt, he ushered them inside and shut the door behind them, locking the cold out. "Gwen, look who's here!"

An excited squeal rose from the sofa when Gwen saw them all in the doorway, and she leapt up and bolted into her brother's arms, before hugging the rest of them in turn. Delighted tears were running down her cheeks.

"Sit down, sit down," she urged them, gesturing towards the sofa and wiping her eyes, beaming all the while. They obliged, arranging themselves on the three sofas surrounding the TV. Gwaine was last, placing his head in Percival's leg and his leg's on Merlin's. Neither of them complained. They expected this sort of thing by now.

"When did you get back?" Merlin asked once they had all settled and helped themselves to the snacks laid out on the coffee tables.

"Earlier today," Elyan said through a mouthful of pringles. "We would have come straight away, but we wanted to surprise you together."

"My idea!" Gwaine put in, and Percival rolled his eyes while the others laughed.

They spent a long time catching up, taking it in turns to ask questions about what the others had been up to. Stories were exchanged, and they stayed up until the small hours of the morning laughing over silly things and generally enjoying each other's company again. Gwaine talked the most, as usual, talking about their adventures overseas and describing some of the people they met, with a fond smile on his face all the while. The others would sometimes cut in to add details to a tale or insist that that is not how it happened Gwaine, but they mostly nodded along and listened to him ramble. Then it was Merlin's turn to share his experiences with Uther's children at the palace, and everyone was silent while he spoke. When the subject of the recently passed law came up, everyone suddenly became solemn, and their smiles seemed to falter slightly while Merlin described how terrible it was. He didn't quite realise when it turned into a rant, but his friends stayed at attention, listening intently, fascinated by his every word. It was a sensitive subject, but they were there to hear him. They laughed again when he told them about Arthur, though.

At around 3am, while Leon was in the middle of a story about their horrible first captain, Gwaine began to snore. Everyone, even Leon himself, was beginning to doze off, and eventually Elyan suggested he save the rest for tomorrow and they get some sleep. They could spend the next day together as well, so there was no need to spill absolutely everything in one go. With a yawn, Leon agreed, and leant against Elyan's shoulder, falling asleep immediately. Soon after, the rest of them had curled up and nodded off too.

x

They didn’t wake up until midday the next day, and that only because they heard a crash from the kitchen and all rushed to see what had happened. To their relief (and slight groggy annoyance) it was just Gwaine, who had made an attempt to prepare breakfast for them all, and they found him sitting in a mess of scrambled eggs and pancake batter with a sheepish smile on his face. Merlin offered to help him clean up, so the others trudged back to the main room to resume their lazing about. Once they were out of earshot, Merlin put his paper towel down and turned to Gwaine.

“So?” he started, a grin crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“So what?” Gwaine asked, not turning around, suddenly paying very close to attention to the area of the floor he was rubbing at.

“Did you tell Percy yet?” Merlin demanded, smacking his shoulder in a you know what I’m talking about gesture.

“What?” Gwaine spluttered, his neck flushing underneath his thin pyjama shirt. “No.”

Merlin groaned.

“Come on, Gwaine,” he said in a scolding tone, picking up his towels and tossing them in the bin, watching as his friend’s face grew redder. "None of us are getting any younger."

No one made Gwaine’s cool, charming and easygoing persona melt like Percival did. Even mentions of him made Gwaine's face turn dreamy. He hid it well from Percy himself, but everyone else could see that Gwaine had a smile, and a laugh, and a glint in his eye that was reserved for his tall best friend. Anyone who watched the two of them for more than a minute could tell they were ridiculously and hopelessly head over heels for each other. But no matter how much help they got from their friends, who were eager to nudge them into realising how they felt about each other, they seemed to remain oblivious. None of them ever went as far as telling them explicitly that he loves you back oh my god are you blind?, as they believed they should let it happen on their own (as it inevitably would), but it had been a year and a half and there had been no developments. Merlin knew Gwaine’s feelings were weighing him down behind the cheery exterior, but it was still not his place to spill Percival’s. It didn’t stop him from encouraging Gwaine to do something about it though.

“I’m going to tell him one day,” Gwaine sighed, throwing his towels away while Merlin measured out the pancake ingredients. “I’m just waiting for the right time.”

“You always say that,” Merlin chuckled. “It’ll be too late if you keep waiting.”

Silently, Gwaine took the bread loaf from Merlin’s hands and began cutting it into slices. For a few seconds, Merlin watched him, whisking the new batch of mix before he decided to speak up again.

“You shouldn’t hold it in, you know,” he said, and Gwaine paused mid-saw. “I know it’s a big deal and Percy’s your best friend, but don’t you think you might feel a bit better if you got it off your chest?” Gwaine finally looked up at him, so he continued. “You should talk to him about it, otherwise it’ll keep getting you down all the time. You don’t want to always feel sad around him, do you?”

Gwaine shook his head no.

“I’m scared of making things awkward between us though,” he told Merlin, “I’m happy with what we have now, but telling him might ruin that.”

“It won’t,” Merlin insisted, pouring batter into a pan. “If I know either of you at all, and I like to think I do, it won’t ruin anything. And anyway, he might feel the same.”

“He might,” Gwaine admitted, “it’s so much harder to read people’s emotions when you like them though.”

“I know,” Merlin chuckled, piling the cooked pancakes onto a plate. “But you should say something. Don’t bottle it up.”

“Soon,” Gwaine promised, smiling again, and Merlin left it at that. Their friends were expecting them back with breakfast anyway. Well, lunch really, but at this point no one was really watching the clock.

They moved back to the main room, Gwaine following Merlin around the circle of their friends and distributing a helping of brunch onto the plate Merlin handed them. Once everyone had their share, Gwaine padded over to where Percival was sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa, and curled up again with his head in his lap. Percival looked down at him warmly, immediately starting to play with his hair with one hand while eating with the other. A soft smile graced Gwaine's face as he let his eyes fall shut. He looked peaceful. He looked content.

Just as Merlin had torn his eyes away from Gwaine and Percival to settle next to Gwen, the doorbell rang. Wordlessly, Gwen put her plate down and scurried to answer it. An excited voice came wafting into the main room as soon as they heard the click of the opening door, and the next second, Mordred was dashing in with an alert-looking Gwen in tow.

"Merlin, you'll-" they stopped upon seeing the gathering of still-half-asleep men scattered about on the floor, their smile dropping slightly and suddenly looking very awkward. "Gwen, I wasn't aware you had guests."

"Don't mind us," Lance called from his space against the big sofa. His eyes were heavy lidded and he still sounded drowsy, but he still managed to flash Mordred a winning smile that made them blush a little.

"Well, um," Mordred began again, taking their gaze away from Lance (with obvious difficulty) and returning it to Merlin, "I was on the way to work and I was watching the news, and guess what came up on the morning report?"

"What?" Merlin asked, sitting up straight, intrigued.

"The prince made a speech condemning his father's decision to pass the law against sorcery," they told him, although everyone was listening now, and Gwen looked positively giddy. "Can you believe it?"

"You're kidding," Merlin said, giving Mordred a disbelieving look.

"I'm not!" they confirmed, rummaging in their pocket and pulling their phone out. "Watch this."

Everyone huddled around to watch. On the screen was an incredibly nervous looking Arthur Pendragon, the flashes of numerous cameras lighting up his face every few seconds as he breathed in, and out, before speaking.

"Two days ago, my father allowed a law to be passed banning all practises of magic," he started, his voice strong and steady despite his fretful appearance, "and I'm afraid I can no longer keep my opinion on this hidden. For many years, Aredian Elfred has caused uneasiness among people, making them fearful and suspicious of the magic community, and my father has backed him up all along. The fight against magic did not begin recently, and I have denied the injustice of it for too long. Until now, I have not spoken up against the prejudice against magic users, and for that, I must apologise. I want you all to know, practisers of magic, that I am on your side. I will not stay quiet about this any longer."

A huge uproar came from the press offscreen as he stepped down from the pedestal, his expression suddenly determined and unflinching at the sudden increase of flashes in his face. The camera followed him until he left the room, a news reporter's voice talking over the footage of the paparazzi trying to all squeeze through the door of the hall at once, talking about how controversial this would be, the conflict and unrest it would cause, how his sister must have been quietly indoctrinating him to her way of thinking. That was when Mordred shut the clip off.

"You see?" they said excitedly, grinning at Merlin who couldn't help but mirror it.

"The guy's certainly got a mouth on him," Elyan commented.

"This is fantastic, Mordred!" Merlin exclaimed, grabbing Mordred by the shoulders. "Now we've got both of Uther's children supporting us!"

"Maybe they can persuade Uther to change his mind," Leon said, and Mordred turned to him, nodding.

"Exactly!" they agreed, then checked their watch. "Right, I've gotta run. I'm going to talk to Morgause about possibly talking to Arthur on the show. I'll see you later!"

They all called goodbyes and waved them out of the door. Merlin sat back, overwhelmed but beaming with joy.

"Hope is not lost, Merlin!" Gwen cried gleefully. "Leave Uther to Morgana and Arthur, and in the meantime, we can start planning on how to wear Aredian down."

x

No one, not even Morgana, knew that Arthur was slightly terrified of his father. The king expected so much from him, all the time, and even the slightest failure earned him a disappointed look, and it cut like a knife. It was bad enough having the whole country watching your every move, but it was worse when he did something out of line and his father directed his cold rage at him for the following days. Each time he went against Uther’s word, he was punished in the form of icy glances, silences, or even worse, “I expected better from you, Arthur.” It had knocked away at his rebellious, until eventually, he stopped rebelling.

But then Uther went too far.

Arthur refused to believe his father really wanted to bring back the death penalty to deal with sorcerers. Surely it was Aredian’s influence, but still, he had brought it up at the breakfast table and Arthur had shot from his seat, knocking over the water jug before Morgana could even react. Maybe his reaction was too violent, and some of his words were far more bitter than any he had ever directed at his father, but he had held it down all this time, and now Uther was casually talking about throwing away lives. For a practise that hadn’t truly harmed anyone since the king himself was Arthur’s age. The months of quietly resenting his father’s opinion on sorcerers was over. The very same morning, he came clean on live TV and told the country exactly what he thought of the law his father had passed. He told them he would not stand for it. He would not stand by and let innocent people suffer and be forced to hide. That morning, for the first time in a while, he put his responsibility to the people before his father’s name.

Needless to say, Uther was not happy.

“Just what is the meaning of this,” the king spat, bursting into Arthur’s room with enough force to make Arthur flinch when his door crashed against the wall. “I thought you were more sensible than this.”

“You mean you expected me to keep quiet?” Arthur shot back, ignoring his nerves. This was bound to happen eventually. “Expected me to do whatever you say regardless of what I think?”

“Don’t you realise what you’ve done?” Uther fumed, taking another step towards his son. “You’ve sparked anarchy!”

“Morgana did that months ago!” Arthur yelled, meeting Uther in the middle of the room. “I won’t stay quiet while she does all the work trying to make you see how wrong you are.”

Uther’s eyes narrowed.

“You are the prince, Arthur,” he said, dangerously quietly, “and you have a lot to learn. Soon enough, you will realise that everything you do has consequences, and you have to put your country before your heart.”

“And which is more important to you?” Arthur challenged, upset and angry, unable, as usual, to keep his emotions in check.

Uther did not reply, but simply tore his gaze away from Arthur’s and swept from the room, leaving Arthur standing breathless, surprised at his own bravery. With a final, hard exhale as his father stepped out of his sight, he stepped back and sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. He suddenly felt very tired.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments? talk to me on tumblr at [g4vroche](http://g4vroche.tumblr.com/) <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so I've taken all my schoolwork and other general life responsibilities into consideration, and decided that I will probably stick to updating this once a week. I won't promise a certain day because I'll most likely let you lovely people down and that's the last thing I want, but I'm fairly certain I can manage weekly updates!! Thanks again to everyone who left comments and kudos, you really made me smile <3

Every newspaper was printed with Arthur's face. Headlines screamed about his speech, both positive and negative, and everyone was talking about it. Looking around was like looking in a mirror. People said his name either with disdain, approval, or admiration, but it was like listening to a teacher discussing him with his father over a small table at school. He hated being the centre of attention like this. So he just stopped looking, and stopped listening.  **  
**

"You picked a fine time to decide you're pro-magic, you know," Morgana grumbled as they fought their way through a gaggle of photographers and reporters standing outside the palace gates, shouting over each other and brandishing microphones, and into a taxi Morgana had booked to take them to Gwen's. She had packed hoodies and jeans into her bag for them to change into to avoid being recognised. Morgana was smart like that.  **  
**

"Would you rather I hadn't said anything?" Arthur snapped back, turning his face away from the flashing lights of the cameras.  **  
**

"No," Morgana replied, slamming the taxi door shut in the reporters' faces and breathing a sigh of relief when the driver sped forward. "If you had thought about it too much your nerves probably would have got to you. It's good you spoke up when you did." **  
**

Arthur nodded, accepting the clothes Morgana handed him and beginning to unbutton his shirt as she took off her blazer nimbly. While he shuffled and squirmed into his civilian gear, she managed it with grace and great skill, having played truant from the castle many more times than he had. Eventually Arthur struggled his way into a pair of jeans, a t shirt and a baggy hoodie, and sat straight again. Morgana, in a similar outfit next to him, turned to face him and put her hand on his knee. He turned to see her smiling at him.  

"I'm proud of you," she said quietly, and he felt himself smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks. They said nothing more for the rest of the journey. 

Thankfully, there was barely anyone milling around Gwen's street to spot them. After paying the taxi driver with a generous tip (for his silence) they slipped out and dashed to number 43, hoods up and heads down, and Morgana rung the doorbell for flat 6B. A pretty girl with brown curls and chocolate coloured eyes answered the door, smiled at them both and hurried them inside, closing the door quickly after them.  **  
**

"You must be Gwen," Arthur said once the three of them were safe inside the opening hallway of the building. He held his hand out and she shook it firmly. "We haven't met properly, have we?" **  
**

"Not yet," Gwen replied, practically beaming at him. Her smile was contagious. "I've seen you around the palace though." **  
**

"Moping about, most likely," Morgana teased, poking Arthur in the ribs and making Gwen giggle. "Shall we?" **  
**

They trudged upstairs to the second floor, the two Pendragons taking their hoodies off as they followed Gwen to flat 6B. Gwen opened the door to reveal a fairly large front room, with beige walls and a bookcase that touched the ceiling, piled high with books and papers in messy stacks. To the left, a tiny TV stood on a wooden cabinet surrounded by three plush white sofas, circling a glass coffee table that was set with small bowls of fruit and different kinds of crisps.  A mantelpiece holding pictures of Gwen with various people as well as candles and other ornaments stood behind them. There were pictures hung everywhere, with strings of fairy lights twisting around and decorating the walls, giving the room a golden-orange glow even with the grey weather looming outside. Beyond the seating area was a wide hallway that split into two; straight ahead was a large window overlooking the city with a windowsill large enough to sit on and admire the view, and turning the corner from there would take you to another room. Natural light flooded in from the one big window, and the small beams from the fairy lights gave the place a warm, homely aura. House plants were scattered about the room too: sitting in the bookcase, on the windowsill amongst the cushions, on the coffee table, and on the cabinet next to the TV. It was almost minimalistic, and it was a neat sort of messy, and Arthur found he liked it very much. He told her so, and she beamed at him. He decided he liked her smile very much too.  **  
**

"Merlin's just in the kitchen," she told them, moving to clear the coffee table of a few plates that lay on it. "I'll go and fetch him. Make yourselves at home!" **  
**

She skipped in the direction of the window and turned the corner out of sight. Immediately, Morgana hopped over to the seating area and took ownership of one sofa, stretching across it like she lived there. Arthur had only just made it beyond the nearest sofa when Gwen returned with Merlin. His face twisted into an odd mix of disbelief and suspicion when he recognised the prince. Arthur shot him a disdainful look right back.  **  
**

"You again," were the first words out of Merlin's mouth, although they suddenly didn't sound so icy. His initial expression had softened a little into mere confusion. Did Gwen even warn him they were coming? **  
**

"You again," Arthur agreed, straightening his back a little and holding the other's gaze until he gave the tiniest shrug and turned away to sit on the middle sofa next to Gwen. Arthur felt like he should be offended by such flippant behaviour, but he wasn't really. Not being in the palace surrounded by the luxuries of his everyday life seemed to have relaxed him a little, in every sense of the word.  **  
**

"You've met?" Gwen asked, looking from him to Merlin, and Merlin shrugged again.  **  
**

"Briefly," he told her before Arthur got the chance, never looking at Arthur himself. "He came into the bookshop to hide from the paparazzi." **  
**

Gwen looked to Arthur for confirmation.  **  
**

"Yeah, they wouldn't stop asking me about Morgana," he said, keeping his eyes on Gwen although he could see Merlin finally look up at him out of the corner of his eye. "Merlin was a real help." **  
**

"You're just jealous because I'm the more interesting sibling," Morgana put in, making Gwen and Merlin laugh. He had a nice laugh, when he wasn't scoffing in disbelief.  **  
**

"You're the more troublesome, more like," Gwen retorted, and Morgana threw a grape at her. **  
**

"Apparently not anymore," Merlin said, looking at Arthur again with an unreadable expression, "the papers are full of nothing but the prince." **  
**

Arthur couldn't tell if he was being patronising or if he was praising what he had done. His face gave no indication either way.  **  
**

"Yeah, wow!" Gwen chirped, and Arthur was glad for the excuse to look away from Merlin's blank face, "that was brave of you. We were all very impressed." **  
**

Arthur couldn't help but flick his eyes back up to Merlin at that. Their eyes met for a split second, but Merlin looked away immediately.  **  
**

"Thanks," was all Arthur could think to say. He found himself inexplicably curious to know what Merlin thought of his speech. He turned to address Merlin. "Um, how did your interview with Morgana rate with your blog readers?" **  
**

Merlin looked surprised at the question, but he seemed to brighten up a little and unclench his body slightly.  **  
**

"Very well," he said, swivelling round to grin at Morgana who showed him her finger guns. He turned back to Arthur. "Everyone thinks she's very inspiring and well-spoken." **  
**

"Take notes," Morgana grinned, pointing at Arthur, and he flipped her off.  **  
**

"I did," he reminded her, "if it wasn't for your nagging I never would have changed my mind about staying quiet." **  
**

"You flatter me," Morgana laughed, sitting up to grab more grapes, looking to Gwen and Merlin as she did so. "He's exaggerating. He made the decision to speak up all by himself." **  
**

Arthur rolled his eyes.  **  
**

"I am a big boy now, Morgana," he said sarcastically, and Merlin laughed. In surprise, Arthur turned to him, and his smile faltered a little. It was almost disappointing.  **  
**

"I'm glad we have you on our side," Gwen said after a momentary silence that felt to Arthur like an age. His heart was beating ridiculously quickly for a reason he failed to determine. "Will you be joining us at the next protest?" **  
**

Arthur felt his face heat up. His father would be furious if he took to streets. Well, even more furious than he already was. There was no way Uther would stand for his heir going out rioting, even if Arthur did believe in the cause. Surely there were other ways to show his support and do things to help without angering the king any further.  **  
**

"Oh, well, I-" he began, unsure how to explain this without sounding like a coward who keened at the first sign of conflict.  **  
**

"You should," Merlin cut in, fixing him with the icy stare once more, "since you claim to stand with us." **  
**

"That's not-" Arthur tried again, withering a little under the sudden disapproval in Merlin's eyes. Apparently he hadn't done enough to convince him.  **  
**

"Unless, of course, that was just a publicity stunt," Merlin shrugged, taking his gaze away from Arthur, which only pissed him off more. He clenched his fists in his lap and tensed his shoulders without realising.  **  
**

"It wasn't!" Arthur insisted, glaring at the side of Merlin's head, willing him to look back up so he could see Arthur was serious. "Why on earth would I-" **  
**

"I don't know," Merlin snapped, and then he was glaring too, directly at Arthur, and Arthur felt his resolve crumble a little. "Why would you?" **  
**

Another awkward pause. Both of them were tensed now, glaring daggers at each other across the room, making the place feel darker all of a sudden. The violent slamming of the rain against the window could be heard in the quiet that had fallen upon the four of them. Then, suddenly, Gwen stood up.  **  
**

"I think the food's ready," she announced loudly, so Merlin broke eye contact with Arthur. "I'll bring it through." **  
**

The second she left, Morgana began asking him about his job at the bookshop, which was an obvious (and rather mundane) diversion to the conversation, but one which Arthur was glad for. He couldn't work out why Merlin held such a grudge, or why he was so determined to believe Arthur's intentions weren't genuine. Everything he had said was true, and he meant every word, so why was Merlin so hard to convince? More importantly, Arthur wondered why he cared so much. He watched Merlin talking to his sister, his murderous glare completely gone and his body relaxed and calm again, and felt a sudden pang of jealousy. Then he realised that surely, he was just being ridiculous. Merlin was one person, who had been nothing but scornful and cold towards him, so Arthur felt like his opinion shouldn't be of great importance to him. But, for whatever reason, it was, and he couldn't help but be miserable as he looked on at Merlin and Morgana chatting like old friends.

"Lunch is ready!" came Gwen's overly cheery voice from behind them, and the three of them turned to see her re-enter the main room wielding four plates skilfully on her arms.  **  
**

"Smells delicious," Morgana smiled, jumping up to help her with the plates.  **  
**

"I hope you don't mind that there's no meat," Gwen said, turning to Arthur and setting the food in front of him. "Merlin's a vegetarian and I wanted to avoid cooking lots of different dishes." **  
**

Before he answered, Arthur looked quickly over at Merlin, who was watching him with an expression of what looked like disgust, and it made Arthur's stomach twist. **  
**

"No, that's fine," he replied, offering Gwen the best smile he could. "I'm sure whatever you made will be delicious."  **  
**

She smiled back at him and resumed her position next to Merlin, who avoided his gaze. He didn't miss the eyeroll though.  **  
**

They ate mostly in silence, with occasional attempts at conversation from Gwen and Morgana, who eventually gave up and resorted to talking to each other rather than trying to involve the boys. Merlin kept his eyes on his spaghetti the entire time. Although Arthur wasn't very hungry, he forced most of the pasta down so not to hurt Gwen's feelings, mostly wishing Merlin would look up at him just once. Finally, he decided to try to join the girls' chatter, just to give him something to do other than stare at the top of Merlin's head.  **  
**

"This is amazing, Gwen," was what he decided to add, gesturing to the remains of his spaghetti with his fork. He wasn't lying - it was delicious, and he was almost certain it wasn't that which was making him feel sick. Either way, Gwen took the compliment with a glowing smile.  **  
**

"Thank you," she replied, eyes glittering happily, "it's an old family recipe. Although I'm afraid Elyan makes it better than I do." **  
**

"Only when Leon's around," Morgana scoffed, and Gwen snorted. Even Merlin laughed at that. Arthur had no idea what they were talking about, but he was alerted by Merlin's reaction.  **  
**

"Elyan's my brother," Gwen offered, taking pity when she noticed Arthur's puzzled expression. "And Leon's our friend." **  
**

"When can I meet them?" Arthur asked, mostly as a joke, as he wasn't sure he would be welcomed back in a hurry, but Gwen's face lit up brighter than the fairy lights behind her.  **  
**

"Would you like to?" she grinned, and Morgana looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. "They just got back from active service away in Palestine." **  
**

"Wait." Arthur paused, a connection forming in his brain. "Is that Leon Duncan, by any chance?" **  
**

"Yeah!" Gwen exclaimed, "you know him?" **  
**

"We've been friends since we were kids!" Arthur laughed, shaking his head at the coincidence. "I've planned to meet him tomorrow, actually." **  
**

When he adjusted his gaze, he saw Merlin watching him, finally, with fascination on his face in the place of the disgust.  **  
**

"Well I'll tell you now," Gwen said, a smirk on her face, "you mention Elyan to him and he won't shut up for anything." **  
**

"Are they dating?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. If this was the case, Leon would have some explaining to do. Primarily why the hell Arthur hadn't heard about this before.  **  
**

"No," Gwen said, at the same time Merlin said "they wish."  **  
**

"They just both have really big, really obvious crushes on each other," Gwen explained, rolling her eyes fondly like she was talking about little kids. "I've told Morgana all about it." **  
**

"And you didn't tell me?" Arthur gasped, acting offended. "Et tu, Morgana?" **  
**

Morgana threw a grape at him, and he turned his head to avoid it, catching a brief glimpse of Merlin, with an amused smile on his face. Warmth flooded through him, and he couldn't help sending a grin in his direction. Merlin didn't drop it this time.  **  
**

x **  
**

Things became less awkward after that. The conversation flowed more easily, all four of them relaxed significantly and the tensions slowly but surely ebbed away. Merlin and Arthur still didn't speak to each other directly, but they didn't have any more angry stare downs, either, which was something. Once or twice, Merlin even laughed at Arthur's quips, which he counted as a personal success. By the time Morgana suggested it was time they headed back before their father discovered they had sneaked out, the sky had mostly cleared up of the rain and grey clouds, replaced now with a dusty pink glow of early evening. They helped Gwen clear up the dishes, thanked her for everything and gathered their things, before they were led to the door to say their goodbyes. Morgana and Gwen hugged each other tightly, and Arthur was pleasantly surprised when Gwen gave him a hug too. Merlin had excused himself to the kitchen to wash up, which saved Arthur the stress of deciding whether to shake his hand, or say goodbye, or apologise or something, but he also found himself a little disappointed. He doubted he would see him around again.  **  
**

"Come again any time you like," Gwen was saying, successfully prying Arthur's eyes away from the corridor which led to the kitchen. "You're always welcome." **  
**

"Thank you," Arthur smiled. "Maybe I'll see you around the palace though too?" **  
**

"Definitely," Gwen nodded, grinning, and Morgana led him into the hallway outside Gwen's flat.  **  
**

"Wait here while I call the cab," Morgana instructed quietly, and he nodded as she strolled a little further down the corridor.  **  
**

He turned away from Gwen's flat while he waited, his back to the still open door. Finally, Morgana finished the call, and gestured for him to follow her downstairs.  **  
**

"Hey, your highness."  
  
At the call of his name, Arthur turned around to see Merlin striding towards the still open door of the flat. With an almost-smile on his face, he leant against the doorframe, folded his arms and held Arthur's gaze. It was hard to tell if he had used the title seriously or sarcastically. Knowing Merlin, just from their few exchanges, it was probably the latter.

"Your speech was pretty decent."   
  
Then the door closed, and Arthur was left standing in the corridor, feeling an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. He told Morgana once he joined her in the opening hallway of the building that his cheeks were red because of the cold. **  
**

x **  
**

That evening, Merlin sat in his front room with the TV on mute, typing up an article he'd started work on immediately after Arthur's speech. One half of him wanted to believe that the prince was genuine, but he had a nagging feeling in the back of that he didn't really mean what he said, so he decided to write his conflicting thoughts up on his blog so his readers could contribute their opinions. It wasn't uncommon for his views to be swayed, even slightly, by the comments his articles received. He had first met Gwen because she had commented on almost everything he wrote and constantly gave him a different and informative perspective. They had got talking over Facebook, decided eventually to meet up, and the rest was history. So, even if this was the first time he didn't have a solid opinion on the prince's motives, he wanted to post something and get other people's standings on the whole thing.  **  
**

Earlier, at Gwen’s, he had tried to get some sort of reading on what Arthur’s real thoughts were. Obviously, he didn’t have the same extreme views as his father or Aredian that sorcery was completely evil, and his speech would benefit their cause whether it was for real or not, but if this was somehow a roundabout scheme to make the public more opposed to magic, it could demolish three years of campaigning in the space of a few days. And judging by the arrogant, self-righteous behaviour Arthur displayed which was similar to his father’s, Merlin could not cross off that possibility. As far as he knew, Uther could be using his son in a plot to drill his bigoted opinions into the people’s heads and to undermine Morgana’s rebellion. He could only hope that it wasn’t the case. **  
**

On the other hand, though, Arthur had seemed upset when Merlin had accused him of speaking about something he didn’t really believe in. At Gwen’s, he had acted more humble, more like a real person than Merlin had ever seen him act before. He almost seemed nice, totally unlike the man Merlin had met in the bookshop or the palace. It had been like a completely different person, and someone Merlin almost liked, at that. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down. **  
**

As his fingers flew across the keyboard, deleting and re-typing and re-wording and clicking furiously, his cat, Kilgharrah, hopped up onto the sofa to join him, bumping his leg gently with his head and mewing to get Merlin's attention. At his arrival, Merlin realised his shoulders were horribly tensed, and his legs had fallen asleep, and that meant it was high time for a break. With a stretch, he stood up and moved towards the kitchen to refill his cup with water and grab a snack, before taking a slow walk around the house to relax himself. Just as he was about to sit back down and return to work, his phone pinged with a text message. It was from Lancelot. **  
**

**19:48pm, Pretty Boy <3: **be at the White Dragon as soon as possible. We need to talk

 

Those words sent a rush of panic through Merlin’s chest, and he scrambled to think of anything serious that Lancelot would want to discuss with him. When he couldn’t find anything, he considered ignoring the text or telling Lance he had a lot of work to do, but Kilgharrah was stretching across his seat and looking up at him with a disapproving look, as if he knew he was planning to avoid his friend. With a sigh, he saved his work and closed his laptop.

“You’re right,” he said to Kilgharrah, rubbing him between the ears and getting a pleased meow in return.

He texted Lance, telling him he would be there, grabbed his bag, and left his house.

x

The White Dragon, the small, homely cafe where Gwen worked when she wasn’t at the palace, was owned by a friendly old lady called Alice, and stood barely ten minutes away from Merlin’s house. Since it was also very close to the bookshop, he usually went there during his lunch break with whatever book he’d dug up from the back shelves of his workplace. It was quaint, with soft, pleasant music always playing, and the two girls who worked under Alice’s eye baked delicious pastries fresh each day. They always made conversation with Merlin when he came in, often sitting at his table to chat, and he spent many happy hours there. This time, however, Merlin approached the building with a sense of dread.

Lancelot was waiting for him outside, leaning against the pale yellow wall which looked grey in the dull light of late evening. He smiled at Merlin as he walked up to him, turning to open the door to the cafe. The bell above the door chimed merrily, making the few late night visitors glance up as they entered. Freya, one of the two full time workers, smiled in greeting and they returned it, before moving to an empty table near the back and sitting down.

“So,” Merlin started, “what do we need to talk about?”

“It’s about Arthur,” Lance said, looking him straight in the eye, “Gwen told me about today.”

“Did she?” Merlin sighed. He had thought about many potential things Lance could want to discuss as he made his way over, but this was not one of them.

“Yes,” Lance went on, “she said you were very skeptical, and you doubted his intentions.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Merlin snapped, a little too loudly, and a few heads turned in their direction. Then, quieter, he added, “his father stands against everything that makes me who I am, and his son has never shown any signs of disagreeing, until now. Can you blame me for being cautious?”

“No,” Lance admitted, giving Merlin a sympathetic look which made him regret lashing out. “But don’t you think if he’s being genuine there’s a chance Uther might change his mind? You wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”

“But if he isn’t he could-” Merlin protested.

“I know,” Lance interrupted. “I know. But I think you should give him a chance. Don’t write anything negative on your blog just yet, at least until you find out whether or not he’s being truthful. I’m not telling you that you should trust him, just don’t write him off as a bad guy.”

“How am I supposed to find out if he’s telling the truth?” Merlin asked, putting his chin in his hands.

“You got an interview with Morgana,” Lance shrugged. “Gwen says she likes you. It shouldn’t be hard.”

“Are you saying I should try and become buddies with the prince?” Merlin scoffed.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Lance said, grinning. “Maybe he’s not as awful as you think.”

“Oh, yeah, also,” he started again, looking all of a sudden embarrassed of all things. It was hard to remember a time he had ever seen Lance look so flustered. “You know, um, your friend, the curly haired one?”

“The one who came in to show us Arthur’s speech?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” Lance confirmed, his eyes glazing over a little as he smiled. “Yeah, him.”

“Them,” Merlin corrected. “Their name is Mordred. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you might um,” Lance was definitely blushing a little, “I don’t know, put in a good word for me, maybe? Get us in the same room again, perhaps?”

“You like Mordred?” Merlin repeated, disbelieving, unsure which word to emphasise.

Just as Lance was shrugging again, looking more flustered than ever as he tried to grasp for a suitable response, there was suddenly a commotion at the front of the cafe. Everyone was crowding around the small television that sat on the counter near the window, and Freya, Alice, and the other full time worker, Vivian, were encouraging everyone to be quiet. After exchanging a glance, Merlin and Lance stood up and moved to join the small crowd that had gathered. The screen showed Arthur, suited up again and looking incredibly shaken, standing at a pedestal to apparently make another speech. Occasionally, the camera cut to show the numerous amounts of gathered reporters, fingers poised on the buttons on their cameras, or gripping their pens ready to take notes.

“I am standing here tonight to address the speech I made two days ago,” he announced, even his voice sounding slightly shaky. “I came forward, and declared that I opposed the law against magic in this country.”

He took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. Merlin watched his every move, carefully, with his eyebrows raised.

“However, some new information has come to light,” he went on, “I have been told something which hits close to home, and I see now that what I said was misguided, and drastic.”

There were a few murmurs among the little group in the cafe, but Alice quickly gestured for them to hush and listen. Merlin could feeling his heart thumping violently at this change.

“I made a mistake, and I am afraid I must now take back what I said,” he finished, and Merlin saw the hurt and terror in his eyes. Whatever he was told, it must have been truly awful. “I now understand that the law is a necessity. There is no place for magic in this country.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments? talk to me on tumblr at [g4vroche](http://g4vroche.tumblr.com/) <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SOOOOO LATE and im so so sorry but I actually have a valid reason!!! last weekend was London comic con and I was rushing to get everything finished (I was up staying awake till 3am finishing my cosplay) and then on Monday my parents randomly dragged me to Yorkshire with no warning and I had no wifi for a week BUT IM FINALLY BACK and i'll write the next chapter extra quickly to make up for this! thank you for being so patient <3

Arthur didn’t stop thinking about Merlin all the way home. Even when they got back to the palace (where the paparazzi were still standing, now soaked through from waiting outside in the rain), his mind was full of his defiance, and his disregard for whatever power Arthur held over him, and most prominently, the grudging approval he'd given him just before they left. Maybe he was finally accepting that Arthur didn't have ulterior motives. Or he was being sarcastic. Arthur hoped it wasn't the latter, but he didn't know Merlin well enough to tell. Either way, it was making his heart beat ridiculously fast.  **  
**

A few times, Morgana tried to strike up a conversation, but she gave up after he gave her minimal responses with a distracted expression on his face. As soon as they were inside, he dashed upstairs to his room, wanting to avoid Morgana's questioning gaze. She didn't follow him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep out of her way forever.  **  
**

Their father wasn't home, thankfully, so the palace was unusually silent, save for the occasional sounds of George bustling about doing something or other. Arthur took a shower and read a few more articles about his speech on his computer to distract himself. From what exactly, he didn't really know, but either way, the fiery disapproval of half of the press kept his brain well occupied.  **  
**

It had been almost two hours, and he had done nothing but stare at his screen, doing nothing important, when he heard a knock on his door. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he swung himself off his bed and went to open the door, surprised to see his father behind it. The king never knocked.  **  
**

"Arthur," he said, in a solemn voice that made Arthur's stomach turn. "May I come in?" **  
**

"Of course," Arthur nodded, stepping aside to let him in. It was rare for Uther to request entry, too. Arthur knew something must have been very wrong.  **  
**

"I'm going to tell you something," Uther began, not looking his son in the eye. "I should have told you a long time ago, but I was-" he paused, and took a deep breath. Arthur took a step forward but Uther held his hand up. "-I was afraid. But now I feel I have to tell you, because of what you did the other day." **  
**

Arthur didn't dare to speak. His father looked almost upset, which was an expression Arthur had never seen on his face. Never this deep, panicked sadness. Disapproval, maybe, when he or Morgana did something he didn't like. But his face showed something else; something that was far more terrifying than his disapproval or even his anger. He looked scared.  **  
**

"The real reason I was so willing to let Aredian pass the law against magic," he went on, and Arthur felt his heart begin to race, "is because thirty years ago, sorcery was the main source of fear in this country." **  
**

Arthur knew a bit about this. He knew that sorcerers were completely without restrictions, and a lot of people used this for malicious intent and personal gain. A lot of people got hurt, and the large majority of those people were non-magic users. It was a national crisis for a good few years, as their powers meant that they had an advantage over the authorities. They fought for acceptance in a ruthless and violent way. **  
**

However, he also knew that there were sorcerers who genuinely wanted harmony, worked towards peace, and acted with nothing but reason and patience towards those who would see their kind gone. They were, granted, a minority, but Morgana had explained to him that they were unfairly overlooked and all magic users were seen as angry, malicious freaks.  **  
**

Then Aredian was elected prime minister, and a large chunk of the pro-magic revolution was crushed under his iron fist. Many people changed their opinions on magic users because of him, and the pro-magic movement lost a lot of allies. Without the support they faltered, and many of them were imprisoned or fled in fear of his new, strict policies on sorcery. The next few years saw Aredian and his government stamp out most of those who used magic for malicious reasons, but it left a bad taste in people's mouths. Ever since then, the public were more hostile towards sorcerers than ever. It wasn't until recently, when the law banning magic was actually proposed, that the remaining sorcerers and their allies rose up to protest against the unfair attitudes towards all people with magic. At least, that was Morgana's side of the story. Apparently his father was going to provide him with the other side.  **  
**

"I've told you the general events of those days," Uther said, his voice quiet, "and all of those contributed to my decision to let the law pass." **  
**

Arthur's heart hammered, the sound thumping in his ears and making his breathing more rapid than usual. He tried to take deep breaths, but his father's worried glances and stressed out movements were making him panic.  **  
**

"But the real reason I allowed it," his father went on, "the factor that truly tipped my view, is the fact that it was a sorceress - magic - that killed your mother." 

On the last word, his voice broke. That, more than anything, even the weight of the words themselves, was what crushed Arthur. His eyes filled quickly with tears, and his mouth fell open as he tried his best to breathe through the ripping of his heart. A sharp, broken sob escaped him, and his father moved forward immediately to wrap him in his arms. With that, Arthur lost all control of himself. He cried, heavily and without restraint, into his father's shoulder, and felt his hand rubbing his back as well as the occasional heave of his chest, like he was trying to stop himself crying as well. Crying was not something he had really done since he was five years old. He held it back, in fear of appearing foolish, or weak. But now, with this information, there was no way it could be prevented. His fists clenched around the material at the back of Uther's shirt, hearing the words repeat themselves in his head again, and again, and again.  **  
**

_Magic killed your mother. **  
**_

And he had announced his willingness to side with it.  **  
**

"I'm sorry," he gasped out, keeping his face buried in his father's shirt, so his voice and his broken breathing were muffled, "I didn't kn-" **  
**

"You are not the one who should apologise," Uther cut in, sounding stern, but not in the usual way that made Arthur flinch. "This is my fault. I should have told you before." **  
**

"But I-" Arthur tried to say, looking up at his father's face and almost breaking down again at the sight of the pain he saw there.  **  
**

"What you did was rash, yes," Uther said, moving back and holding Arthur by the shoulders at arm's length, gently and with softness in his eyes. "But it is not something that cannot be fixed." **  
**

Arthur didn't see a way it could be fixed. The thought of going back on his word barely two days afterwards terrified him, and the potential outcomes of it swirled about his mind and sent him further and further into a panic. His breathing became heavier, and quicker, and his vision blurred. He wished he had kept his mouth shut, let his father and sister do the talking, instead of getting himself into a mess before he knew all the information. Every time he spoke in public he did something wrong or made a fool of himself. He was certain the public thought he was stupid and unfit to be heir, given all his screw ups and his nerves whenever he spoke, and his faltering attitude to pretty much everything. He knew people made comments, like _Arthur has no backbone, Arthur's the saddest prince of Wales the UK has seen for a while_ and _people like him for his looks not his brains (he hasn't got any!)_ usually followed by cruel laughter, but until recently he had done his best to ignore them. Morgana was always right by his side to help him forget as well, but if he took back his claim to side with the sorcerers, she would be the last person to tell him to pay no mind to the spite. But what else could he do? Even if people didn't have the best opinion of him, the last thing he wanted people to think was that he was a liar.  **  
**

"I know it won't be easy for you," Uther admitted, sympathy and understanding lacing his tone, "but you'll have to retract your statement." **  
**

Taking a deep breath, Arthur looked down at the floor, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. He had hoped his father had come up with an alternate option that wouldn't involve him having to announce that he had given false information to a crowd of judging eyes and flashing cameras, capturing his emotions for the people to analyse.  **  
**

"Arthur," his father said, gently titling Arthur's chin up with his fingers, encouraging Arthur to look at him. There was a reassuring smile on his face. "It'll be fine. I'll be right there with you." **  
**

With a rare tenderness, he wiped the tears under Arthur's eye with his thumb, before pulling him back into a hug.  **  
**

"I understand you have a lot of pressure on you," he said into Arthur's hair. "You _and_ Morgana. You're still teenagers, for god's sake." **  
**

"Not everyone sees it that way," Arthur mumbled, and he heard his father sigh.  **  
**

"Unfortunately, being a royal, you will always have people who criticise you," the king said, sadly. "Sometimes it's for the best that you ignore them and continue to do what you think is right." **  
**

"I know," was all Arthur said, because he knew that was what his father had always done. It wouldn't be nearly as easy for him to do the same, but his father would never understand that.  **  
**

"Good. Now, it's better that we sort this out as soon as possible, so I'll call the press secretary. I'll give you some time alone, shall I?" **  
**

Forcing a sad smile, Arthur nodded. It was better he did this quickly, before he could overthink things and make himself more anxious. As soon as his father left the room, he sat down on his bed, put his head in his hands and let himself cry quietly until he was worn from it. Then he lay still, breathing in and out heavily in an attempt to slow the beating of his heart and stop himself feeling like throwing up, until his father came back to take him out to fix his horrible mistake.  **  
**

x **  
**

When he got home, his hands were still shaking, and his head hurt like someone was throwing rocks from inside it. His father had stayed behind to answer some questions, so he was left to make his own way home, and he could tell the driver was giving him odd looks when he curled into a ball at the back of the cab and took violent gulps of air before breathing them out again heavily.  **  
**

For a good few minutes, he stood in the landing at the top of the first flight of stairs, breathing in and out and trying to relax his body. Just as he had got his breathing back to a more normal rate, he heard rapid footsteps from around the corner, and immediately tensed up again when he saw Morgana, a livid expression on her face as she stormed towards him. It was only after he had felt a sharp pain across his face and he was suddenly looking at the floor with a throbbing heat in his cheek that he realised she had slapped him.  **  
**

"You better have a _very_ good explanation for this," she snarled, brandishing her finger in his face threateningly. Anger welled up in his chest, making his neck burn, and he hit her hand away, more violently than he had intended. For a moment, she looked startled.  **  
**

"I changed my mind," he snapped, watching her face twist back into fury. "Dad told me what magic is really capable of, and I realised that I'd made a mistake." **  
**

He went to turn away, already fed up of the confrontation, but she grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her.  **  
**

"Just what," she spat, "did he say that made your opinion change so fast?" **  
**

"Those people killed my mother!" Arthur yelled, wishing she would go away, but hoping more that the flame inside him would die and he could quell his rage, but once it was sparked it wouldn't be so easily extinguished. Once he raised his voice, it would remain loud and bitter until one of them gave up the fight.  **  
**

"Those _people_ ," Morgana said, "haven't hurt anyone for over twenty years. People change, or did you not know that?" **  
**

"I'm not stupid, Morgana," Arthur retorted defensively, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.  **  
**

"And need I remind you that my mother was murdered too?" she shouted at him, angry tears welling up in her eyes. "By someone as magic-less as you or I. Do you think I hold a grudge against every non-magic user for that? Should we just ban humans altogether?" **  
**

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur scoffed.  **  
**

"I thought you were better than this, Arthur," she went on, shaking her head in a condescending way that made his rage flare up again.  **  
**

"Well you know what I _am_?" he shot back, moving towards her so suddenly that she stepped back, "I'm sick of having other people make my decisions for me, and I'm tired of everyone talking at me all the time. I'm fed up of people never giving me all the information because they think I'm easily breakable and I'll just snap! You claim to hate our father, but you're just like him. You only tell me what you want me to hear so I say whatever you want me to." **  
**

"Do you know how many people were counting on your support?" Morgana persisted, her fists clenching as well at his last remark.  **  
**

"I'm not going to lie about my stance on it for the sake of a minority," Arthur told her, feeling his hands shaking again. "You know it's not easy for me to do this stuff, I'm going to face a shit ton of backlash, and the last person I want it from is you." **  
**

"Oh, yes," Morgana said, her voice dangerously quiet, "it's so hard for you, isn't it? A father who dotes on your every need, servants at your beck and call, no need to hide your identity from the public! What reason do you have to complain? Your entire life has been laid out for you on a _plate_!" **  
**

Slowly, her voice increased in volume, until she was right in his face, practically screaming, each word hitting him harder than the last. On her final syllable, they heard a loud, violent crack from above them, and looked up just in time to see a section of plaster break from the ceiling, bringing the heavy chandelier down with it. Panic flooding his chest, Arthur grabbed Morgana, who seemed to be frozen in shock, and pulled her out of the way. The whole thing came crashing down on the floor with a loud clatter, glass smashing and flying in all directions. Arthur shielded Morgana's head, neck and shoulders with his arms and she leant into him until the last bead had rolled to a stop and the once magnificent decoration lay in a broken mess on the carpet.  **  
**

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, letting her go and checking for any injuries, fear and adrenalin still coursing through him. She looked more confused than anything else, her eyes wide and startled like a deer caught in the headlights.  **  
**

"I'm fine, I just-" she assured him, rubbing her head and glancing round at the damage. Then she turned back, as if she had remembered she was still angry with him and she pulled her arms out of his grip, her scowl returning. With a last huff, she turned and swept from the room, just as George dashed in with a fretful expression on his face. He looked at Arthur with questioning eyes and Arthur just gave him a despairing look back. It had been a long day.  **  
**

x **  
**

The main thing Merlin felt was confusion. Strangely, he didn’t feel as furious as he felt he should, because he was so preoccupied trying to figure out what could possibly be so bad that Arthur went back on his word just two days later. Also, he was determinedly trying to think of a way that Uther could still somehow be behind this, because he still had his doubts about Arthur’s intentions.  **  
**

Although, he had taken note of how shaken Arthur had looked as he made his announcement. He almost looked ready to pass out, and he looked mortified of something. But Merlin couldn’t for the life of him work out what it could be, and not knowing annoyed him so much that he forgot to be truly angry at the prince himself. Of course, he was slightly irritated that he had managed to get under his skin and almost, _almost_ charm him earlier at Gwen’s, and now was turning round and taking that all back, but there was nothing to be done about that now. Arthur probably knew Merlin wouldn’t respect him anymore, if he even cared, but that hardly mattered to Merlin. It just proved that he was right about Arthur being an asshole the whole time. **  
**

For some reason, Gwen was convinced he was innocent. There were a few rumours that Arthur was scared of his father and that he would do anything he was told out of pure fear of consequences if he didn’t, and that did make sense. Admittedly, he _had_ looked scared to make the speech which went against everything his father stood for, so perhaps the king had terrified his son into going back on his word. That’s what Gwen suspected to be the truth, but Merlin was convinced it was something deeper. Lance had made him promise not to write anything on his blog until they had more insight, and Merlin had begrudgingly agreed. Still, his fingers itched to write something inflammatory about the prince to get his thoughts out of his mind and onto the internet for his readers to discuss. Both Gwen and Lance decided that it was unfair to bash him until they really knew what was going on (though Merlin argued that Arthur probably didn’t know what unfair _meant_ , being the prince and all) so Merlin kept his laptop shut and Kilgharrah had crawled over and settled on top of it, as if he was siding with them.  **  
**

Instead, he paced his living room back and forth, under his cat’s watchful eye, rubbing his temples and trying to put two and two together. None of it made sense. If it was a plot by Aredian and Uther to turn the public against all sorcerers, it was a very odd tactic, and Merlin couldn’t think of a way this could possibly work to their advantage. In fact, given all the spite directed at Arthur from many people online and in newspapers, it seemed to work against them. Logic told Merlin that that meant it probably wasn’t a plot, but he didn’t scratch out that possibility completely. After a good twenty minutes of pacing, he began to admit to himself that maybe Arthur had meant what he said the first time. Uther must have told him something horrible. **  
**

A shrill ring from the doorbell snapped him out of his thoughts suddenly. When he opened it, he was greeted by Gwen and Mordred, both soaked through from the rain and looking urgent. He moved aside to let them in. **  
**

“There’s _major_ unrest about this,” Mordred announced, shrugging off their jacket while Merlin shut the door. “People have exploded and are posting about this everywhere.” **  
**

“A demonstration has been organised already,” Gwen added, showing Merlin a leaflet. “This weekend.” **  
**

“This might work to our advantage!” Mordred said excitedly, grabbing Merlin by the shoulders. “The prince’s speech is causing a huge stir within the community and even most of the allies are furious.” **  
**

“That’s great,” Merlin said, smiling, but his heart wasn’t really in it. It was unfair, he surprised himself by thinking, to use Arthur’s obvious distress as a handhold to start a revolution. **  
**

“It’s a pity it was as a consequence of Arthur going back on his word though,” Gwen said, voicing what Merlin was thinking, “I liked him.” **  
**

“Me too,” Mordred agreed, to Merlin’s surprise. “I still think there’s hope for him though.” **  
**

“I hope he comes round,” Gwen sighed. “His father’s got some kind of hold on him, I know it.” **  
**

Mordred nodded. **  
**

“So, are you guys going to go to the demonstration?” Merlin asked. **  
**

“Of course,” Mordred replied at the same time Gwen said, “hell yeah.” **  
**

“You are too, right?” Mordred said, raising an eyebrow. **  
**

“Obviously,” Merlin grinned, “you need me to make the banners anyway.” **  
**

Mordred beamed, as if he expected Merlin missing a protest was even a possibility, just as Gwen’s phone rang. She fished it from her jacket pocket and bit her lip. **  
**

“Who is it?” Merlin and Mordred chorused and she gave them a worried look. **  
**

“Morgana,” she told them, and tapped the answer button. **  
**

All three of them were immediately met with loud, frantic chatter, and Gwen winced and held the phone away from her ear. They caught a few words, but nothing really intelligible. **  
**

“Is she ok?” Mordred hissed, looking concerned, and Gwen shrugged and gave them a _wait a minute_ finger. **  
**

“Morgana?” she said into the phone, but the babble continued. “Morgana, calm down. I know, yeah, I know but just- ok, yeah, I’ll put him on.” **  
**

She looked up at Merlin, and he gave her a questioning look back. **  
**

“She wants to speak to you,” she told him, and handed him the phone. **  
**

“Hello?” he said, cautiously, slightly confused and feeling Mordred and Gwen’s eyes on him. **  
**

“Merlin?” Morgana’s voice rang through the phone, urgent and panicked. “You have to speak to Arthur. He won’t listen to me, but he cares about your opinion.” **  
**

“What?” Merlin scoffed, mouth wide. “Why would he listen to _me_?” **  
**

“He cares about what you have to say,” she told him. “I’ve never seen him act like he did around you around anyone else. He’s never obvious about wanting someone’s approval but he didn’t stop talking about you on the way home. Trust me, if I know him at all, he’ll listen to you.” **  
**

For whatever reason, Merlin felt his neck go hot. He swallowed. **  
**

“I don’t know if I can-” he began. **  
**

“Please, you have to at least try,” Morgana begged, sounding desperate and almost breathless. “I have no idea what my dad told him, but I know you can get him to change his view.” **  
**

“Alright, I’ll try,” Merlin told her, shrugging at his friends’ questioning looks. **  
**

“Thank you,” she breathed, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Would you put Gwen back on?” **  
**

“Yeah, sure,” he said, and handed the phone back to her. Morgana started saying something and she moved to the next room, reassuring her of something or other in a gentle voice. **  
**

Mordred turned to Merlin. **  
**

“What did she want you to do?” they asked, worry in their face. **  
**

“She wants me to talk to Arthur,” Merlin told him, sighing and sitting on the sofa next to Kilgharrah, who stretched and moved onto his lap. “She seems to think I can get him to change his mind.”

“That’s,” Mordred breathed out, “that’s a big ask.”

“I know,” Merlin said, “Lance did suggest I try to get close to him somehow and work towards getting him to realise not all magic is evil.”

“Like an undercover agent,” Mordred joked, and Merlin allowed himself a weak laugh.

“I guess so, yeah,” he admitted, shrugging.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Mordred said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

x

The sound of Gwen’s voice never failed to calm Morgana down. She was always so calm, and soft, always had a smile saved for her, and Morgana loved her more than anything. Her heart was still racing from her argument with Arthur, but after phoning Gwen, she felt a thousand times less tense, and less like everything was falling apart around her. That warm, calm feeling only lasted a few moments, however, as before she knew it, the door of the lounge she was sitting in was flung open and her father strode in, face set with anger, and slapped a piece of paper on the coffee table. It was a leaflet advertising a demonstration that weekend.

“You are _not_ going to this, you hear me?” he snapped, getting right in her face.

“You can’t control me,” she shot back, standing up so quickly she knocked her teacup off the table. Both of them ignored it. “I’m not a child anymore, you can’t stop me speaking up for what I believe in.”

“I am you father, and I am the king!” Uther shouted, taking another step towards her. She _almost_ rolled her eyes; she had heard him say this so many times. “You will _not_ leave the palace on Saturday and you will _not_ go and make a fool of yourself amongst those animals.”

“The only animal here is you,” Morgana hissed, standing on her tiptoes to get eye to eye with her father. “And you can’t lock me in here.”

“I paid your maid extra to keep an eye on you,” he told her, in a low voice, knowing he had won. He knew how much she cared about Gwen. Knowing she couldn’t tell him Gwen had meant to go to the protest in case she put her job at risk, she pursed her lips and set her feet back flat on the floor. "If I find that you've gone against my word, there will be serious consequences young lady."

“Fine,” she spat, grabbing the leaflet and storming from the room and towards the staircase, ignoring Uther calling her back. She heard him follow her out of the door, but he stopped at the foot of the stairs and when she looked back from the top of the stairs, he had gone.

With a sigh she slumped down on the top step, running a hand through her hair and breathing out her frustrations heavily. There was nothing she could do to get out of this, she knew that now, otherwise Gwen’s position would be in jeopardy, and the last thing she wanted was Gwen to leave her side. Now her hope lay with Arthur. She would just have to count on Merlin’s powers of persuasion. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments? talk to me on tumblr at [g4vroche](http://g4vroche.tumblr.com/) <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go friends, a long chapter to make up for my tardiness last time! enjoy <3

The rain had stopped slamming on the pavement by the time Merlin stepped out of his taxi, and the sky had cleared considerably, which he was grateful for. He was already reluctant to step through the palace gates again, and he doubted that the gloomy english weather would improve the situation. Once again, George came out to greet him with the smug sneer on his face and led him inside. For the second time, he waited in the opening hallway while George scuttled off to find the prince. 

While Merlin waited, he moved across slowly to one of the walls to examine the pictures hanging above the polished wooden sideboard, all guarded with shining metal frames and thin glass. On closer inspection, he saw that they were not paintings as he had originally thought but photographs, some in colour and some in black and white, but all beautifully captured moments taken with delicate precision and obvious care. He saw various buildings, silhouetted against skies that stretched all across the colour spectrum. Some were landscapes; wide open fields and mountain ranges and hills and trees of an almost otherworldly splendour. A few more were shots of people. He spotted crowds with some figures slightly blurred in an artistic fashion. Then there were candids of Morgana and Uther. They had been shot in profile, from the front, slightly from the side, with somber faces and smiles and there was one gorgeous  one of Morgana mid-laugh, which was obviously unplanned. There was a signature at the bottom of each one, supposedly from the photographer, but Merlin couldn't make out a name, even if he squinted.  

"You like those?"

The voice startled him, making him jump and turn towards the source. It was Arthur, standing at the top of the stairs with a forced smile on his face. After a moment of eye contact, Arthur started to make his way down.

"I took most of them," he said, but it didn't sound like he was boasting. When Merlin didn't say anything, Arthur hopped off the bottom step and moved to stand next to him. "I suppose you've come to tell me how terrible and wrong I am too."

"That wasn't where I planned to start," Merlin replied, raising an eyebrow. "I was just going to ask you some questions."

"Fantastic," Arthur bit out sarcastically, focussing his gaze on the candid of Morgana laughing. "And then I suppose you'll pick out the bits that make me sound the most heartless and take out all the context and make me seem like an asshole."

"What?" Merlin scoffed. "No. I'm not from _the Telegraph_. I only publish the truth. You're the one who decides whether or not people see you as an asshole."

 Arthur snorted, and turned away back towards the staircase.

"Fine. Let's get this over with."   
  
x   
  
After a while, Arthur wasn't so bad. Once they had both stopped giving each other suspicious sideways glances and settled down to actually talk, he seemed reasonable and pleasant. Besides, Merlin had to admit, his reason for going back on his word was valid. Uther was corrupt and bigoted but Merlin was almost certain he wouldn't lie about the circumstances of Queen Ygraine's death. It had been obvious how much she and Uther loved each other, after all.  

 When Arthur explained to Merlin why he had said what he did, Merlin was silent, leaving his pen still and paying full attention to every word. For a while afterwards, neither of them said anything, just sitting rather awkwardly and letting their tea go cold, until Arthur cleared his throat and asked Merlin to say what he wanted to.

So Merlin told him that he didn't believe all magic was evil and, like in every group of people, there were those who were corrupt and worked only for themselves. To Arthur's credit, he listened closely as Merlin had done for him, obviously taking his words into account, but Merlin could tell he wasn't really affecting his mindset at all. His face remained almost stony. It would take a lot more than just Merlin's words to bring him back to sense. As he watched Arthur nod along with him, he sighed internally, dreading the long and trying task of trying to convert the prince. Everyone around him seemed to believe that Arthur was their saving grace, the one hope for magic users everywhere, but honestly, Merlin didn't see it. He only saw a stubborn, closed minded kid who was convinced everything his father said and did was right. The man he had met at Gwen's had completely vanished. All his odd, boyish charm seemed to have completely fallen away, and while he still wasn't unpleasant, Merlin was glad when they wrapped up and George arrived again to take him back to the gates. Not to mention sitting in close proximity to someone who would throw him in jail without a thought if he knew about Merlin's powers set him incredibly on edge. He stepped into his cab gratefully, breathing in and out heavily in an attempt to relax himself. With a sigh, he leant his head back against the leather headrest. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.   
  
x   
  
Although Arthur knew Leon was avoiding the subject of his changing alliances, he was grateful for it. Arguing with Morgana and talking to Merlin had drained him, and he didn’t really feel like justifying himself to anyone else. Thankfully, Leon seemed to realise this and they caught up on other things instead.

Leon was one of the few people Arthur could really relax around. They had always had a very easy, laid-back relationship and Leon was always calm and logical, which, in a way, seemed to cancel out Arthur's constant stress and left him feeling at peace when they were together. Sometimes they spent their time together just in silence, enjoying the other's presence but not really doing anything. That was nice. It was a break from his otherwise hectic life, which was often what Arthur needed. It was hard to keep secrets from him, but really, Arthur liked sharing his worries and desires with him, because he never failed to give him good advice and was always there with a helping hand. Arthur couldn't be more grateful to have him as a friend.

However, on this occasion, his usually down-to-earth friend seemed almost distracted. He shared stories of his time away with a degree of engagement, but sometimes he would pause and his eyes would glaze over for a second before he shook his head and carried on. Arthur decided not to question it, because he was certain there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. He had just been near a warzone for two months after all. And anyway, he wasn't completely present. His mind was full to bursting of Merlin.

That was another thing he decided not to bring up in the conversation. Now he knew Leon was friends with Merlin, he predicted that mentioning him would spark a conversation and Arthur didn't really want to talk about him at that time either. Even though, arguably, it would be wise to ask Leon why he couldn't stop thinking about him and why he was so desperate for his approval, he left it unmentioned, and decided to just listen to Leon talk. As usual, it was pleasant, and without the air of awkwardness he had been feeling around absolutely everyone lately. He liked hearing Leon talk. When he was required to, he smiled or laughed or sometimes chipped in with a comment, but he felt no obligation, and slowly, he became less anxious about his situation as he immersed himself in Leon's tales. A great weight seemed to have lifted, even though he did catch himself thinking about Merlin once or twice and feeling his stomach flip, and they ended up talking late into the night, until eventually Arthur felt his eyes dropping and heard Leon's voice trail off and saw his surroundings slowly fade to black. Leon's murmur of "...probably should rest" was the last he heard before he drifted off. It was the best night's sleep he had had for two months.

x

The morning of the protest arrived with a glorious, blood red sunset, which Mordred commented was very appropriate and Merlin couldn't help but agree. The two of them had stayed up all night, contacting their friends and encouraging them to contact their friends, as well as making banners and signs to hand out and wave themselves. By the time six am rolled around, they had well over fifty, and Mordred's old sewing machine finally spluttered out its last breath and died, the little light flickering sadly before going out.

"Damnit," Mordred groaned, tugging the material out from under the needle. "Now I have to hand stitch the rest of this one."

"We'll get some new batteries today," Merlin said, his voice croaky and tired, his paintbrush almost slipping from his hand as his eyes dropped. "If we don't get arrested."

"You look really rough," Mordred said, abandoning the banner for the moment and moving to fret over Merlin. "Why don't you get some sleep? I can finish this lot off, and we've got about four hours 'till it's due to start."

"What about you?" Merlin asked, his elbow slipping and narrowly missing a tray of paint.

"My sleeping pattern's fucked anyway," Mordred shrugged, prising Merlin's brush from his hand. "Come on, there are blankets on the sofa."

Merlin didn't argue. Supporting most of Merlin's weight, Mordred led him to the living area and set him down on the sofa. Almost as soon as he lay down, he began snoring softly, so Mordred draped a blanket over him and returned to their workable. They began piling Merlin's colourful signs up on one side and clearing up the paints to give them more room to finish the last banner. With a sigh, they fetched their sewing kit and sat down in Merlin's space to begin stitching. Just as they had secured the last stitch neatly and folded the banner up, their phone rang, making them start and knock the pin cushion off the table. They pressed the answer button without checking who it was as they stretched over to retrieve it.

"Hey Mordred," Gwen's voice came through, sounding almost as tired as Mordred felt. "This really sucks but I can't come with you and Merlin to the protest. I have to work today."

"I thought Alice gave you the day off," Mordred said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not Alice," she sighed, "it's Uther. He asked me to come in to make sure Morgana doesn't go to the protest."

"What?!" Mordred almost shrieked, straightening up so fast they bumped their head on the table and swore loudly.

"Are you alright?" Gwen gasped, and Mordred unintentionally groaned down the phone.

"Fine," they said briskly, "but why you? Doesn't he have plenty of other servants who could guard her?"

"Uther knows Morgana wouldn't do anything that might get me fired," Gwen explained. "If I'm there, there's no doubt that she'll stay put."

"Bastard," Mordred muttered.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Sorry for letting you down."

"It's not your fault," Mordred assured her. "Merlin and I will just have to yell extra loud to make up for your absence."

They heard her laugh, and their positive mood returned somewhat.

"Tell me how it goes yeah?" she said, and they told her they would, and they hung up.

Rubbing their head frustratedly, Mordred got up from the table to fetch a few bags from the cellar to hold all their banners and signs. With a yawn, they filled one with the pile of neatly folded banners and two more with a few of the signs. The two of them would have to carry the rest in their hands.

They lay the three bags and the remaining signs by the door, their spirit returning as they glanced over the slogans printed on the canvas. Merlin had ordered them online almost a year ago for this exact purpose, and the three friends had officially dubbed them "revolution bags". One read, sorry for the inconvenience, we are trying to change the world;another said, respect existenceandexpect resistance;the last one was simply, long live the revolution. Carrying them around made Mordred feel empowered, and full of fighting spirit, and this was no different. The bags, along with the matching jackets they, Merlin and Gwen had emblazoned with badges and patches from various movement and with various slogans, were symbols of their confidence, their willingness to defy convention and regulation, and the fire that burned within them, lighting up the path to change. To Mordred they were as important to their cause as the signs they waved or their fists in the air.

Once they had done that, they decided to join Merlin in the living area, swiping a blanket and taking the other sofa for themself. It wouldn’t hurt, they supposed, if they took a nap too. Just ten minutes.

“Mordred!”

Someone was hissing above them. But they were dreaming of a free England and cute boys with long hair, and they were very comfortable.

“Mordred, we’re really late. The demonstration started almost twenty minutes ago.”

The blanket was flung off so quickly and with such force that Mordred narrowly missed whacking Merlin in the face with their fist. Thankfully, he backed away just in time.

“Shit,” Mordred cursed, scrambling to the opening hallway for their shoes. “We’d better get there sharpish.”

Having already got ready to leave, Merlin unlocked and opened the door, and soon enough the two of them were dashing out of the house and down the street in the direction of the train station.

The tube was unusually quiet, most likely down to whatever commotion was going on in central London, so they managed to grab seats and arrived fairly quickly at Whitehall, where huge crowds were gathered, already yelling and causing a ruckus.

“I’ve missed this,” Mordred grinned. Merlin laughed, and they plunged in among the riot.

x

Family dinners were usually awkward as it was, but tensions were higher than ever after the events of the previous days. When Morgana looked up from her plate, it was either to glare at her father or scowl at her brother. It was early evening and the protest had begun, escalated into chaos, and been shut down long ago, so Gwen had gone home and any trace of Morgana’s pleasant attitude had gone with her. Instead of snapping at them or making biting remarks however, she had opted for the silent treatment, and had ignored them for the whole afternoon to many a frustrated sigh from Uther. The dining room was the quietest it had been for a very long time.

Finally however, Uther broke the silence with an announcement, and Morgana’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice.

“Aredian is visiting us for dinner tomorrow evening,” he said, keeping his gaze trained on his fork, but the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

With only a gentle groan, Morgana pushed her chair away from the table and moved towards the door, making Arthur’s heart jump. Whatever followed would not be good.

“Morgana-” he tried to warn her, but their father interrupted him by slamming his fork down and standing up quickly.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

“Anywhere but here,” Morgana told him, a bitterness in her voice that made Arthur’s blood run cold. “And don’t expect me to be here tomorrow when that pig is with you.”

“I was not giving you a choice,” Uther snapped, and Arthur stood up in case he needed to intervene. Morgana’s knuckles were turning white.

“Are you going to blackmail me again then?” she yelled back, whirling round to face him. “Or threaten someone else’s job just to get your way?”

“Mind your tone,” Uther spat, advancing towards her, and she backed away a couple of steps, raising her fists slightly.

"Stay away from me!" she shrieked. The fury in her voice made Uther freeze.

It was only for a second, but Morgana's eyes burned a fierce orange glow, and suddenly the glass case in the far corner holding their collection of crockery dating beyond the 15th century cracked and splintered into millions of shards, and almost half the contents smashed in a symphony of destruction. Startled, Arthur and Uther whipped around and stared, open mouthed and horrified at the damage. Then they turned back round to Morgana, who looked equally as terrified as Arthur felt, if not more so. Taking another step back, she let out a heavy gasp which bordered on a sob, looking at her hands with wide, frightened eyes.

“You have-” Uther begun, his voice barely above a whisper. Before he could finish, Morgana turned and fled from the room. The king stayed rooted to the spot, but Arthur dashed after her.

“Morgana!” he yelled, running to the top of the stairs where she had stopped to support herself on the banister. At the sound of his voice, she turned, startled.

“Get back,” she warned, raising her arm sharply, but he continued moving towards her.

Just before he was flung backwards into the wall, he saw her eyes once again turn to liquid fire, and felt a violent burning in his chest. From the floor where he had landed, he watched her pull her hand back with a small gasp, and glance over at him with concern before rushing out of his sight down the stairs. His vision was going blurry. With whiteness spreading in the corners of his eyes, he watched his father run out from the dining room, shout something he couldn’t hear, and chase after Morgana down the stairs. He could feel something wet at the back of his head, and hear a high pitched buzzing in his ears, as well as malicious voices chanting your sister’s a witch over and over, until the whiteness took over and he let his eyes fall closed.

x

It was already dark by the time Gwen got home, so she decided to just make herself an early dinner and watch tv for a bit before going to bed. She flipped the tv over to a film channel and curled up to watch Back to the Future, resting her bowl carefully on her lap. Halfway through the film, her doorbell rang. She debated ignoring it, but whoever was outside didn’t stop ringing it, and eventually she sighed and got up from the sofa.

“I’m coming!” she called when the ringing got more frantic. Muttering irritably to herself, she unlocked the door and swung it open. Morgana was on the other side, pale and looking ill like she hadn’t slept in a week, her eyes wide and her whole body trembling. There were tear tracks running down her cheeks.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to,” she breathed out, her voice hoarse and shaking just like the rest of her.

“What happened?” Gwen asked, wrapping her up tightly in her arms and moving her gently inside, shutting the door behind them. Tiny, muffled sobs rose to Gwen’s ears from where Morgana had her face tucked against Gwen’s neck.

“I have magic,” she confessed, her voice heavy with her crying. “I don’t know what happened I was just arguing with my dad and-” she took a sharp breath in, peeling herself away from Gwen and looking at her miserably. “-the crockery cabinet smashed and it was me. And I broke the chandelier, I felt it.”

“It’s okay,” was all Gwen could think to say, bringing the taller girl back in for another hug and stroking her hair in what she hoped was a comforting way. “You’re safe here.”

“I ran away afterwards, I couldn’t-” she went on, clutching to Gwen like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry,” Gwen insisted, softly, although her heart was pounding. “I understand. I’m here for you, okay?”

Instead of replying, Morgana continued to cry against Gwen’s shoulder, holding her tightly, and Gwen held her back, patting her reassuringly and rocking her gently back and forth to calm her down. She did after a good few minutes, and let Gwen go with a heavy breath.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” she sniffed, rubbing her eyes and keeping hold of Gwen’s hand. “Is it ok if I stay here for a few days?”

“Of course,” Gwen said, squeezing her hand. “Stay as long as you like.”

Morgana nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and giving Gwen a teary smile.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Don’t thank me,” Gwen replied, smiling back. “Now come and sit with me. Back to the Future is on, and I know how much you love it.”

“No one knows me better than you,” Morgana agreed, letting Gwen lead her to the sofa.

Once they had sat down, Gwen gently encouraged Morgana to lean against her shoulder, so she did so, relishing Gwen’s warmth and her kindness. It wasn’t long before she dozed off, the cheery chords of the Power of Love still ringing in her ears.

x

In a word, Aredian was terrifying. Just his presence made Arthur nervous, and he seemed to have a constant suspicious look on his face, with crease lines around his eyebrows and eyes that were most certainly not from laughter. Every time Aredian looked at him, Arthur felt like he was staring past his face and straight into his head, taking note of every secret he kept hidden. Never once did he smile, and Arthur couldn’t relax for the entire time he was with them.

It was the day after Morgana had run away, and Arthur was still shaken. Neither he nor Uther had any idea where she had gone, and consequently Arthur didn’t sleep at all, sickened with worry for her as well as shock at what she had done. Obviously, she had been just as surprised as they had been at her powers, but Uther refused to discuss it once Arthur had woken from consciousness. She’ll come back soon enough, he had said, adding that as soon as she did they could work on a way to cure her. Even with his limited knowledge of magic, Arthur was fairly certain it wasn’t something that could be cured by medicine, and that thought scared him most of all, but he kept quiet. Nevertheless he expected Uther to cancel the meeting with Aredian, but he did no such thing, and greeted the prime minister as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Arthur was told to do the same, so when Uther lied that Morgana was away on business and so regrettably would not be joining them, Arthur grimaced at him and said nothing.

They talked exclusively about politics and plans for the future of Britain, and Arthur tuned most of it out unless he was addressed directly, but when Aredian mentioned a new solution to the country’s “magician problem”, he decided to listen in. Apparently, Aredian had scientists working on a bracelet fitted with a technology that would quell and render a sorcerer’s powers useless, with a distinctive silver stripe painted on it in order to distinguish someone as a magic user. Therefore, he said, once they tracked down a sorcerer, they could put a stop to any harmful activity as well as being able to identify them

“Two birds with one stone,” he said with a spiteful grin on his face, which was the one and only time Arthur saw him with any expression resembling a smile.

In Arthur’s opinion, that was a step too far. Just forbidding magic users from using their powers was enough, he thought. But to actually extinguish their magic, he assumed, was like taking away a limb. Still, he kept his mouth shut, wanting to avoid confrontation or the scathing looks from either Aredian or his father.

But then Aredian turned to him.

“Arthur,” he said, voice low and smug, “what do you think of our progress? Genius, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” Arthur replied, trying to swallow inconspicuously and noticing his father frowning at him from the corner of his eye. He felt his stomach turn, and regretted wolfing down his food. “Well, I don’t believe it’s-”

A knock on the door cut him off, and he had never been so glad to see George in his life.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said, “but Arthur, Mr Emrys is here to see you.”

Just then, Merlin stepped in just enough to come onto Arthur’s view, and without meaning to, Arthur’s face split into a relieved grin. Perfect timing. Merlin looked confused but gave him a hesitant close-lipped smile back.

“Not at all,” Arthur told George, a little too quickly. “Father, Aredian, I must leave you.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, your highness,” Aredian said, nodding to him.

“And you,” Arthur lied, giving him the most realistic smile he could muster. Then he brushed past George, grabbed Merlin’s arm and pulled him out of the dining room before his father could protest.

“Anything else you need, sir?” George asked, noticeably eyeing Merlin with disapproval.

“No, that will be all,” Arthur replied, and George nodded and sauntered away.

“What’s going o-?” Merlin started to ask, confusion all over his face.

“Let’s just, um,” Arthur cut in, waving his hand to get Merlin to shut up, “do you know anywhere quiet where we could talk? Instead of here?”

“Well there’s the bookshop where I work,” Merlin suggested, “but I don’t-”  
“Perfect,” Arthur said. “Let’s go.”

x

They ended up talking about books rather than their differing opinions on sorcery. As it turned out, they had a very similar taste in fiction, and spent a good hour and a half excitedly discussing The Song of Achilles, although they discovered that their view on Charles Dickens wasn’t quite so correlative. Merlin adored him and all his work, but Arthur found him pretentious and that was off-putting.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Merlin joked, and to his surprise, Arthur guffawed instead of taking offence and shoved him playfully in the shoulder.

Then Arthur found a book of Shakespeare sonnets and opened it on a random page before starting to read it out dramatically while Merlin sat on the floor sorting a pile of his plays into alphabetical order, making exaggerated movements and making Merlin laugh until he could barely breathe. After that he sat down to help Merlin organise the plays and listened to him talk about a few different ones, including some he knew well like A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Hamlet, as well as ones he wasn’t so familiar with such as Twelfth Night. It seemed as if Merlin had an extensive knowledge of every play the bard had ever written. Arthur watched him gush with an odd fondness he didn’t know he felt towards him. It was nice hearing his get excited and enthuse about something he was clearly very passionate about. In a weird way, he reminded Arthur of Morgana. But thinking of her made Arthur sad, and made worry growl in his stomach, so he tried his best to just focus on the smile on Merlin’s face as he put the books on their shelf.

Every time a customer came in, Merlin pushed Arthur behind the same bookcase he had hidden behind the first time they had met, laughing as he did. Then they would continue to sort out the stock at the back, talking easily like they had been friends for years. Neither of them said it, but they both enjoyed the other’s company when they weren’t arguing over politics. It was almost fun, and both of them found the other’s smile contagious. Time passed without them really realising.  

By the time Arthur decided it was time to leave, it had gotten dark, and Merlin was about to close up the shop anyway. They shook hands when he reached the door, but they exchanged smiles as they did and it was without the previous tension and awkwardness between them. They agreed to meet again somewhere, and Merlin suggested they actually discuss what they were meant to discuss, and Arthur laughed and nodded, before pulling his hood up and ducking out into the street.

“So you don’t hate him as much as you claim to.”

Merlin whirled around, heart missing a beat at the sudden sound of someone else’s voice, and was met with Gaius standing behind the counter, arms folded and looking smug.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Merlin asked, grinning despite himself.

“In the back,” Gaius informed him, his eyes crinkling fondly. “Well?”

Merlin shrugged, moving his gaze momentarily to the floor.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Merlin sighed, “he’s not that bad.” **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry merlin hasn't used his magic at all yet, that will all be fixed next chapter ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being posted from my phone so there are PROBABLY a few mistakes, but can you believe I'm actually sticking to my schedule? I sure can't. Also, I'm almost halfway through chapter 7 already so you lovely readers might get an early update this weeeeeek <3

Another demonstration had already been organised and advertised for the following Tuesday, with all the flyers and posters screaming of the need for more support and more voices. The protest on Saturday had quickly turned violent, and had only led to negative media coverage, so messages were spread urging protesters to make sure they stayed safe and telling people not to lash out at innocent civilians. Much could be achieved without anyone getting hurt, the organisers said.

Merlin had managed to get all his friends to agree to join him, Gwen and Mordred in waving the banners and demanding change. On the one condition that he fetch all their coffee orders for a week. It was a small price to pay, he thought, for the extra fists. Besides, Merlin knew that really, they wanted the law abolished as much as he did, and were more than willing to help in any way they could. They were simply finding a way to get something out of it from him, he was sure.

The evening before the day of the demonstration, the eight of them sat huddled around a table Percival had dragged into the centre of the bookshop (after Gaius had closed up of course), with Merlin, Mordred and Gwen explaining the usual procedures, some potential dangers, the frequent happenings, and everything else they might need to know about a protest. They all listened, quietly and intently, nodding occasionally to show they understood. All of them sitting around the table had been to at least one protest, but only three had been to ones dominated by magic users. Because of that extra factor, they were especially dangerous and many unexpected things could happen that wouldn't happen at other protests, so they felt it necessary to go through the motions.

Once they had got that out of the way, Gwen broke out the supplies and they all got started on making banners and signs to brandish in the streets. Resourceful as ever, Mordred had printed out pages of examples from previous marches, as well of a list of suggestions for slogans. Leon darted away to make some hot chocolate for all of them, and despite the severity of the matter at hand, it was a cheery evening.

About half an hour into their crafts, Gaius finished sorting out the stacks of new books and came to sit with them, beginning to tell stories of when he used to go to protests with his friends. Most of them were greatly exaggerated and full of drama, so they just made everyone laugh more than anything. It was Gaius's way of lifting spirits in preparation for the next day. Everyone was grateful for it.

At midnight, they decided to declare their work done, and Merlin suggested they stay the night at his, since his house was the closest. No one could find any reason why not, so with a droopy, tired grin on his face, he texted his mother to let her know that his group of revolutionaries would be staying the night.

x

It was cold and bleary the next morning, and everyone woke up bleary and grumbling. Even on the train, no one spoke to each other; everyone buried themselves in their coats and scarves in an attempt to keep warm, all of them fearing the biting cold they would surely be met with when they stepped outside the station and onto the streets.

There were quite a few people there already, although it was early, milling about with their signs waiting for the march to officially start. Police officers were also hovering around the edge of the crowds, hands on their batons just in case there was any trouble. Merlin caught Mordred eyeing them with disgust, and heard them mutter "pigs," under their breath. Despite this, and the cold, everyone seemed to be in surprisingly good spirits. Even the five who were new to the scene seemed fascinated and had brightened up considerably since the miserable train journey. A hopeful feeling was in the air, and by the time the march began, everyone joined in the chanting and banner waving enthusiastically.

At first, there wasn't any conflict, as the protesters kept to their path and the police stayed by their side, just keeping an eye out but not really bothering them. Merlin and his friends waved their fists energetically,  everyone quickly getting into the spirit and yelling as loudly as their throats would allow. Someone spotted Mordred's power(s) to the people sign, covered with glitter and stickers (thanks to Gwaine) and he struck up a loud, hearty conversation with them, before swinging them up and hoisting them onto his shoulders so they could hold it up higher, resulting in showering glitter all over themself and the man below them. It made a whole group of people around them cheer, including Merlin and his friends. Then, Percival lifted Gwaine onto his shoulders and Gwaine waved his long live the revolution flag alongside Mordred, whooping and making the people cheer again, as well as attracting the attention of the news cameras that were surrounding the parade. Somewhere ahead of them, a group of people started singing, and soon enough, almost the entire crowd had joined in, marching in time with their chanting voices and pumping their fists to the beat. Even some of the policemen were smiling by now, as if fondly amused of the communal spirit. Merlin knew not every member of the police force was against the rights of sorcerers. It gave him hope to see a few of them with grins on their faces.

As they got closer to the Houses of Parliament however, things started to get rowdier. A few people began shouting crude comments at the police and even throwing things at them, causing them to move among the crowds and give stern words to a few. But they didn't stop there. More and more people began yelling, creating a discordant roar of noise until the togetherness of before was completely lost. Someone broke through the protective tape in front of the gate guarding the Houses of Parliament and began shaking them, and lots of others rushed after them. Of course, the police now has to intervene, and Merlin watched, horrified, as one policeman whacked a young teenage girl over the head with his baton to stop her rattling the gates. Immediately, cries of "brutes!" and "tyrants!" rose from the rest of the crowd, and then the crowd stopped moving as one. People were jostling forward to form a protective circle around the young girl, fighting the police off with their fists, screaming with fury as the police attacked back. Huge gaps formed among the people as the crowd dispersed and spread across the whole street, their voices growing louder and louder in their outrage. The fierce bustling rippled through the whole crowd, and someone was shoved into the man holding Mordred so that Mordred toppled and fell back and crashed onto the pavement. More furious insults were hurled at the police when people saw this, and Merlin joined in, and he, Gwen and the others began the formation of another protective circle around them, in order to keep them from further harm. Lancelot rushed forward to tend to them, while the rest of them guarded the two of them and roared their anger and raised their fists higher than ever. Finally, Lancelot picked Mordred up carefully, yelling for the crowds to let them through, and with the help of the man who had held them up, they did, Lance announcing to Gwen and Merlin that he would get Mordred to safety. The protective circle dispersed and everyone ran off in different directions to cause more uproar.

Adrenalin pumped through Merlin's veins and he shouted and held his flag, clenched tightly in his fist, high above his head, moving with the crowd as much a possible and ducking out of reach of the police. When Mordred's guard had separated, they had dragged Gwen and his other friends away from him, so he could only hope that they were safe from harm. His heart pounded, the worry he felt for them only making him angrier, and forcing his voice to raise in anger. The police were scattered among the riot, attacking with full force now and making arrest after arrest, though not without resistance. Just then, he saw Gwaine, running away from an officer, hooting loudly and waving the flag behind him. Gwaine spotted him and swerved towards him, grabbing his arm with a yell of, "come one!" and the two of them began to run down the street. Quickly, Merlin turned back to see the officer in pursuit, whispered under his breath and felt the familiar burning in his eyes, then turned back after seeing the officer trip over nothing. He couldn't help the smug grin or the hysterical laugh that escaped him as he bolted after Gwaine.

Once Gwaine realised they had given the officer the slip, he slowed to a stop and Merlin stopped beside him, both of them panting.

"This is fun!" Gwaine puffed. "I'm definitely coming to the next one!"

Merlin laughed again, although it was barely more than a heavy exhale. Then suddenly, he spotted Leon on the other side of the street, obviously looking for someone he knew, unaware of the policewoman behind him with her baton raised. Again, startled, Merlin urged his powers forward and felt his eyes turn to fire, making her baton fly from her grip and out of site under a car. Her confusion gave Leon plenty of time to spot them and make a beeline for his friends.

"Where are the others?" he yelled above the roaring crowd.

"I don't know!" Gwaine yelled back, looking at Merlin for any possible extra information.

"Gwen and I usually meet by the statue of Oliver Cromwell if we get separated," Merlin told them both. "Leon, why don't you go and see if you can find her and we'll look for the others."

"Right!" Leon said, and turned and dashed away in that direction.

"I think I saw Percy near the gates!" Gwaine shouted, and Merlin nodded. They started towards the gates.

As they got nearer the entrance to the Houses of Parliament, the crowd thickened considerably and became harder to distinguish faces. Thankfully, Percival's height worked in their favour, and they spotted him in the middle of a congestion gathered in front of the metal bars, trapped and trying his best to move out. As soon as they saw him, Gwaine began running in his direction, pushing his way around the crowds.

"Gwaine, wait!" Merlin called, but it was too late. So, he followed his friend, stepping over the torn and trampled police tape on the floor, not noticing the officer striding closer every second.

Eventually, Merlin caught up with Gwaine, and helped him attempt to weave amongst the people at the front to get to Percival. Just then, someone grabbed Gwaine by the arm, and startled, he turned to see a policeman with a red, angry expression.

"Clear out, kids," he spat, sounding out of breath and furious.

"We're just trying to get to our friend," Gwaine insisted, gesturing to where Percy was still making little progress to escape. Apparently, that was the last of the officer's patience, because he grunted took hold of Gwaine's shoulders and started dragging him away roughly towards the other, less crowded side of the street.

"Hey, get your hands off him!" Merlin yelled, shoving him hard in the side and making him lose his balance.

"I said clear out!" the policeman shouted, brandishing a warning finger in Merlin's face and taking him by the front of his shirt.

"Leave him alone!" Gwaine shot back, bringing his fist back and then forward so it met with the officer's jaw with a loud smack. The man let go of both of them in favour of cradling his injured cheek, and all of a sudden, two more officers were surrounding them, forcing their hands behind their backs and shoving them away from the crowd where Percival was.

Merlin could hear Percy bellowing their names, fright and worry in his voice, suddenly getting ever so slightly closer. He saw Gwaine try to turn around to spot him, only to have his head pushed back forward by the woman restraining him.

"Don't struggle," she snapped. "It'll only be worse if you do."

Then Merlin felt the cold click of cuffs around his wrists, something he hadn't felt for a long while, which almost made him grin. The two of them were pushed down into the back of a police car, and just before the doors were slammed shut, Merlin saw Percival, having broken free of the crowd and now running towards them, shouting for them and looking, for all his bulk and size, like a terrified lost child.

x

Out of all the ridiculous possibilities Gwaine and Merlin could think up of who would come to bail them out, Arthur was pretty far down on their list. And yet, there he was, standing on the other side of the bars with his arms folded and looking like a stern father. They had only been at the station ten minutes before they were thrown in a cell for police harassment, completely dismissing their claim that the policeman came for them first, and they were only sitting around for another hour before Arthur arrived, having apparently heard from Leon that Percival had seen them being driven away in a police car. It was almost surreal seeing him step into their vision and stop to look at them like an unimpressed teenager at the zoo. Every staff member in the station was falling over themselves to try and do whatever they could for him, but he brushed them off so he could speak to the 'prisoners' in private. Of course, they had to oblige. Merlin almost scoffed aloud, it was so ridiculous, but he doubted that would help their cause.

He was, apparently, in charge of introductions. So after Arthur had sighed and shaken his head at them for a few moments, eyebrows raised in a 'what have you done now' fashion, Merlin decided Gwaine should become acquainted with their apparent rescuer.

"Arthur," he said, "this is Gwaine. Gwaine, this is prince Arthur."

"A pleasure to meet you, your highness," Gwaine grinned, bowing low.

"That's not necessary," Arthur said, not catching the sarcasm. "Arthur is fine."

"So, Arthur," Gwaine said, moving forward to lean against the bars, "come to break us out huh?"

"Not quite," Arthur replied, eyeing Gwaine with what could be described as caution. "I'm here to listen to your side of the story and decide if I want to bail you out."

"Well as we tried to explain to the police," Merlin began exasperatedly, "we were just trying to get to our friend, when this officer came up to Gwaine and started dragging him around."

"So my wonderful Merlin came to my rescue," Gwaine added, wrapping his arm around Merlin's waist and making him laugh. "Told the pig to leave me alone."

"But then Gwaine," Merlin cut in, playing along and giving Gwaine an over exaggerated look of admiration, "punched the guy in the face when he grabbed my shirt."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," Gwaine proclaimed, smirking and kissing the side of his head.

"My hero," Merlin said, giggling. Arthur watched this whole exchange with a raised eyebrow, his arms still folded. His fists seemed to have clenched, for some reason.

"If what you say is true," he said, making the other two turn back to him, "you acted in self defence, and therefore should be released as soon as possible."

"It is true," Gwaine insisted, putting on the most serious face he was capable of, and Arthur nodded.

"I'll go upstairs and arrange it," he announced, finally unfolding his arms. "You'll be free in about ten minutes."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode up the stairs, leaving Gwaine and Merlin alone again.

"That boy really has got a stick in his ass," Gwaine laughed once he was out of earshot, going back to sit on the concrete bench at the back of the cell. Merlin stayed standing.

"He's not that bad," he shrugged, facing Gwaine but not meeting his eyes.

"Ooooh, you're blushing!" Gwaine teased, which only made Merlin blush harder.

"I'm not, shut up," Merlin snapped, feeling his neck flare up with embarrassed heat.

"You've totally got the hots for the prince, haven't you?" Gwaine went on relentlessly, grinning like the idiot he was and swinging his legs excitedly like a child.

"I have not!" Merlin insisted, although the sudden raise in pitch of his voice didn't make him sound very convincing.

"Alright, if you say so," Gwaine shrugged, but Merlin could see him still smirking. He huffed.

“That’s it, you’re off the hook,” Arthur’s voice echoed from behind him, and Merlin spun round, startled, face flushing. He was holding a thumb up with a wonky grin on his face, so Merlin assumed that he hadn’t overheard their conversation. At least he hoped.

“Niiiice,” Gwaine said, moving forward as Arthur unlocked the cell door. “Thanks pal.”

“My pleasure,” Arthur replied.

“C’mon Merlin, we better get home and let the others know we’re alright.”

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded, starting after him, but then turning to Arthur. “You wanna come back with us? I’m sure Gwen would like to see you again.”

“Oh, well,” Arthur stammered, suddenly looking unsure, “I mean, yeah, if you’re friends don’t mind. That would be nice.”

“I don’t mind,” Gwaine shrugged when both Arthur and Merlin turned to him. “Percy loves everyone and Elyan’s outnumbered anyway.”

At that, Merlin and Arthur laughed, and it was settled.

“I hope you don’t mind dick jokes and everyone being far too close to each other all the time,” Merlin said quietly to Arthur as they left the station. Arthur snorted.

“That sounds wonderful.”

x

Everyone clapped when they arrived back at the bookshop. Of course, Gwaine ate it up and started bowing and blowing kisses, which made them all laugh and clap harder. Merlin followed close behind him and Arthur entered sheepishly last. No one seemed at all surprised to see the heir to the throne of England standing behind their friend. In fact, they all greeted him easily as if he was someone they had known for years, which returned the smile to his face instead of the nervous expression he had worn the entire journey there. He waved at Leon before Elyan got up and pulled him over to sit with them at the table. Merlin rolled his eyes and followed them, going to sit next to Gwen, but Gwaine, apparently, had other plans and pulled him into his lap instead.

“Keep it in your pants, Gwaine,” Elyan hooted, and the whole table laughed, except Merlin who glanced over at Arthur and rolled his eyes. He got a slightly delayed half-smile in return.

“Oh, hey Merl,” Leon spoke up suddenly, “you know what I could really use right now?”

“What?” Merlin asked, letting Gwaine put his arms round his neck.

“Coffee,” Leon grinned, and everyone piped up in agreement, laughing, as Merlin groaned again.

“I just sat down,” he moaned over everyone yelling what they wanted. “I just got out of prison, for fuck’s sake.”

“You agreed,” Percival taunted, wagging his finger, and Merlin sighed. Then he spotted Arthur, looking around with confusion all over his face.

“These dickheads I call friends have got me doing their coffee rounds for the week,” Merlin explained. “Like a goddamn servant.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, laughing uncertainly.

“Off you go then,” Gwen teased, making a shooing motion with her hand.

“Assholes,” Merlin said, pushing himself off Gwaine’s lap and picking up his bag again.

“I’ll come with you,” Arthur blurted, standing up as well. All eyes turned to him. “You can’t really carry eight cups by yourself can you?”

Something fluttered in Merlin’s chest, and he felt his neck heat up again. The bashful smile on Arthur’s face made Merlin smile too. For a few rare seconds, there was silence in the bookshop.

“Well, at least someone has some decency,” Merlin said loudly, moving his gaze away from Arthur’s to shoot accusing looks at all his friends.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lance scoffed, “just get going.”

As the two of them made their way towards the door, Merlin turned and flipped his friends off, giving them the nastiest look he could before stepping back out into the cold with Arthur.

Usually, Merlin wouldn’t go to big chain stores, but because his friends all loved using their cruel bouts of irony to force him to support the capitalist regime, they insisted he get their coffee orders from the local starbucks. At first, he hated it, and bristled every time he stepped over the threshold. But the baristas were friendly and always struck up a conversation with him, so he didn’t mind it after a few days. He even considered, just maybe going back there once his one week punishment was over.

There was no one inside when Merlin and Arthur arrived, so they went straight up to the counter. The girl at the counter, blonde and smiley, had served Merlin a few times, and he knew her now as Elena. She was friendly, if a little clumsy, and easily excited, so seeing Arthur made her squeal a little and almost knock a pile of cups over.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, making sure the cups were stable, “gosh, this is so embarrassing, this is just- wow!”

“It’s alright,” Arthur smiled, and he looked genuinely touched by her excitement. “It’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t act fake around me.”

Her face lit up.

“What can I get for you then?” she smiled, leaning on the counter.

“I have the list,” Merlin told her, and she rolled her eyes knowingly.

“How long are you acting as their serving boy huh?” she asked, taking the slip of paper from him and moving towards the coffee machine.

“Another four days,” he sighed. “At least it means I see you everyday.”

“Oh, you,” she laughed, placing eight cups in a neat row.

“Would you hold this for a sec?” Merlin asked Arthur, holding out his phone. “I need to get my wallet.”

Nodding, Arthur took his phone and Merlin began to rummage around his bag while Elena began making their orders. Just then, the phone beeped in Arthur’s hand, and he looked at the screen.

“Um,” he said, slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s ‘daddy a-f’?”

“Oh,” Merlin laughed, not looking up from his bag, “that’s Gwaine.”

“Right,” Arthur said, feeling a little awkward. “Are you and him, um-“

“Oh, god, no,” Merlin scoffed. “He’s just very touchy-feely.”

“Oh.”

“Also he’s pretty much dating Percival anyway.”

“Pretty much?”

“Just watch them for two minutes. They’re such a couple it’s sickening, they’re just too dumb to admit how they feel about each other.”

“Oh.”

“What did Gwaine want anyway?”

“Oh, right,” Arthur said, checking the phone again. “He wants a gingerbread latte instead of the usual.”

“Got it!” Elena announced from the coffee machine.

After Merlin had laid the money on the counter, they stood not talking, the shop quiet save for Elena's cheery humming. On one occasion, Merlin looked up from his shoes and saw Arthur staring at him, and he smiled before glancing away, and Merlin felt his heart jump. God, he could not believe that out of everyone in the entire country, he just had to fall for the one who condemned his very existence. Gaius was right: he was hopeless. He hoped that if he ignored it for long enough, it would pass, and he would return to hating the prince as he should. Nothing would ever come of it, after all.   
  
x   
  
It was late when Gwen got home, later than she had planned, so she immediately ran towards her bedroom without turning any lights on. Consequently, she tripped over something lying on the floor, and fell to her knees, cursing. Suddenly, a light flicked on and she saw Morgana standing in front of her window, wrapped in her long yellow cardigan and looking incredibly worried.   

"Gwen," she breathed, rushing to her side and hugging her tightly. "Thank god, I was so worried about you."

"I'm sorry I didn't text," Gwen replied, squeezing her back. "I didn't think it would be wise."

"No, of course," Morgana nodded, helping Gwen to her feet. "I was watching the news though. It got really violent. Is everyone else okay?" 

"Yes, yes," Gwen reassured her as the two of them made their way to Gwen's room. "Everyone's absolutely fine. Merlin and Gwaine got arrested but Arthur got them released within the hour." 

Sighing in relief, Morgana nodded. The two of them sat down on Gwen's bed, Morgana clutching Gwen's hand harder than she meant to. Gwen said nothing, and just held it back. 

"I can sleep on the sofa if you want," Morgana said after a few minutes of silence. "I don't mind." 

"Absolutely not," Gwen insisted. 

"But I don't-" 

 

"Morgana," Gwen interrupted, lightly stroking her friend's hand with her thumb, "we've been sharing your bed for years. Really, it's no trouble." 

"Please tell me if you want me to move," Morgana said, smiling tearily at her. 

"I don't want you to," Gwen smiled, squeezing her hand. "Now get comfortable. I'm going to make us some tea." 

Morgana did as she was told and buried herself under the thick duvet, wrapping Gwen's cardigan tightly around her. Once Gwen was satisfied she was tucked in, she stood up and walked out into the hallway, her bare feet padding softly against the white carpet. When she was gone, Morgans sighed gently, relishing the warmth of the cardigan on her shoulders. The glow in the dark stars on the ceiling cast an eerie light around the dark room, and Morgana lay in silence, listening to her own breathing, drinking in the presence of Gwen that completely surrounded her. By the time Gwen set the mugs of tea on the bedside table and climbed into bed next to Morgana, she had come to the decision that she loved Gwen more than the real stars in the sky, and she certainly shined far brighter than any of them ever could.   
  
x   
  
Since Morgana had left, Uther had been checking up on Arthur a lot more often than usual. Normally the King would leave his son to his own devices, but recently he had been coming into Arthur's room every few hours to make sure he was alright. His visits had increased after he found Arthur one afternoon, curled in the corner of his room by the window rocking slowly back and forth and hyperventilating through violent sobs. It had taken almost an hour, but he had calmed down and taken a walk around the palace, and then claimed he felt better. Even so, he barely ate, and didn't sleep much, and Uther grew increasingly worried. Not just for Arthur's health but for Morgana's safety. Almost as if Arthur's panic was rubbing off on Uther, he became more determined to find Morgana as quickly as possible and make things right again.   
After the second riot of the week, Uther imagined Arthur would be on edge, but it seemed to be the contrary. When he got home from his outing, he seemed calm and almost glowing with happiness, and that, too, rubbed off on Uther. However, it was not long lasting. 

As usual, Uther made his way upstairs to make sure Arthur was okay, only to find him on his computer reading the blog of some pro-magic activist. Uther knew the writer well. He was prominent in the sorcerers rights activists community. Needless to say, this concerned him. 

"Arthur," he said, announcing his presence, expecting Arthur to be startled. He was not. 

"Father," he said simply, smiling like he had not seen his son smile in days. 

"I doubt that reading that is good for your health or your mind, son," Uther said, gently, sitting beside him. 

"I was just trying to get both sides of the argument," Arthur told him. "You always say that's a good-" 

"Yes," Uther interrupted. "Yes, usually. But in this situation, I think it is best to understand that we are doing the right thing and the opposition is simply too manipulative." 

"But father-" Arthur began. 

"Arthur," Uther cut him off sternly. "I do not want you reading that boy's blog, or anything else like that, do you understand?" 

"Yes," Arthur mumbled, any remaining trace of his smile disappearing. 

"Good," Uther said, standing. "Now, why don't you get an early night? You could use the rest." 

"Sure," Arthur said, miserably, shutting his computer. 

"Hey," Uther spoke up as Arthur moved to the head of his bed, "I'm sorry for snapping. You know I just want you to be safe." 

He was pleased to see Arthur's smile return momentarily. 

"I know," he said. 

"I'm glad. Goodnight, son." 

"Goodnight, dad." 

With a final exchange of smiles, Uther left the room, and shut the door, leaving Arthur alone for another sleepless night.  **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nsync voice] it's gonna be gay  
> thoughts? questions? talk to me on tumblr at [g4vroche](http://g4vroche.tumblr.com/) !!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update one day early isn't really something to brag about, but hey, one less day to wait! as always, thanks for leaving comments and kudos, it really makes this worth writing <3
> 
> note: the first and very last part of this chapter has references to mental illness and it's sort of heavy, just in case anyone reading would be upset by that!! the rest of it is pretty harmless.

No one gave better advice than Gaius. Whenever Merlin was struggling with anything, however big or small, he could always rely on Gaius's help. The man was like a father to him, and he could not be more grateful to have him in his life. Even when Merlin was stubborn and rash and stupid, Gaius stood by him and managed to get him through a lot. It was like a superpower, almost. But sometimes, a dilemma arose that stumped even Gaius.

"He is a good man, Merlin," he insisted, watching the boy pace bath and forth from his place sitting behind the counter.

"I know, that's what I don't get," Merlin sighed. "He's nice. He's friendly and humble and really cute."

"Merlin!" Gaius scolded, looking up from his stock check to frown at him.

"I know, sorry," Merlin groaned, coming to a stop and sitting on the round table. "I just don't understand how someone so-" he waved his hands frustratedly as he tried to find the right word.

"Pleasant?" Gaius suggested.

"Yes!" Merlin cried, getting up again. "So pleasant, can have such bigoted views."

"I'm afraid Uther's influence is strong," Gaius said, shaking his head. "It will take time, but I'm sure if anyone can convince him sorcery isn't all evil, it's you."

"Uther's such a bastard," Merlin muttered bitterly, folding his arms.

"No," Gaius said. "He gets things very wrong sometimes, but he's not a bad man. He does what he thinks is best."

"What he thinks is best is costing livelihoods!" Merlin insisted. "People are hiding their true selves!"

"Yes," Gaius nodded, "but you must understand that his experience-"

The sudden ring of the phone cut him off sharply, making both of them jump. Raising an eyebrow, Gaius picked up the receiver. Before he could open his mouth, someone's voice came loud and fast from the other end, so Gaius had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"Who is it?" Merlin mouthed, but Gaius held up a finger.  

"Your highness, yes I-" Gaius said, his face suddenly growing worried. "No, of course. Sir, please, just breathe-"

Whatever was being said, it wasn't good. Although, it could always be Uther exaggerating. It wasn't the first time he had called Gaius to the palace, only to find it was a minor issue and Uther had wasted his time. For many years Uther had confided in Gaius on a medical front, although he had retired months ago, and Gaius often spoke of the king's overdramatic nature.

"Yes, I'll be there right away," Gaius said finally, already standing up. "Yes. As quickly as possible. Goodbye."

"What's going on?" Merlin asked as soon as the phone was down and Gaius and moved to find his bag.

"Emergency at the palace," Gaius told him, packing a few supplies into his bag.

"Oh what, does Arthur have a cold?" Merlin snorted.

"Oh no," Gaius shook his head, eyeing Merlin with a frown as he reached the door. "Apparently Arthur's having a panic attack. The boy has terrible anxiety."

With that, he fled, running down the street as fast as he could in his old age, leaving Merlin standing stunned in a now empty bookshop.

x

It made sense, he supposed. For one thing, it explained why Arthur barely appeared in public and when he did he always looked terrified. When Gaius returned, he explained that Morgana's disappearance had taken a larger toll on the prince than anyone had realised, and along with not eating or sleeping properly, he had been having ferocious attacks of anxiety despite his medical advisors telling them that he was improving rapidly. Gaius was gone for a good few hours, and Merlin distracted himself by sorting the entire works of Agatha Christie into alphabetical order. Still, it didn't stop him fretting. According to Gaius, it took him, Uther, three servants and a scary two and a half hours to bring him back to a calm state. At one point, Gaius explained solemnly, he had stopped breathing for a long time, and they almost feared they might lose him. Merlin, shocked, listened to him explain what had happened, and seriously regretted ever submitting to the rumours that Arthur's lack of public speaking showed he was arrogant, or lazy, or just a pretty face with nothing behind it. He understood now that it was much more complex, and he had very wrongly judged the prince. Somehow, he wanted to apologise for that.

By some coincidence, barely twenty minutes later Merlin got a text message from Arthur asking him if he wanted to meet somewhere private to talk again, and Merlin saw his chance. Quickly, he replied, suggesting the quiet Glass Gardens near the centre of his borough, and Arthur confirmed, saying he would be there in half an hour. Despite the fact that it only took ten minutes for him to walk there, he went and retrieved his bag and coat, shoving a few pens and his notepad into it on his way to the door.

"Merlin," Gaius said behind him as he reached for the door handle. He paused and looked back, hand not moving. "Don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever?" Merlin grinned, then swung the door open and went outside.

x

Arthur was there before he was. When he arrived, Merlin decided to walk around for a while before he went to meet the prince. There was a large, twisting maze of hedges that ran next to the main area of the park, and the high leafy walls were scattered with flowers of all sorts, and in some corners there were intricate stone statues of men, women, and mythological creatures of every kind. Merlin had been there so many times, for so many different reasons, that he knew the turns of the maze like the back of his hand. Walking through it with the towering green guarding him on either side had often helped him think, or relax, or take his mind of things. On this occasion, it was just to pass the time. But once he had walked to the centre and back out to the main area, he discovered it had been unnecessary.

At the very back of the playground, occupying an otherwise empty swingset, was Arthur. When he saw Merlin approaching him, his face lit up, and Merlin's heartbeat went insane. Upon asking him got there, he discovered that Arthur had been sitting alone since before Merlin even arrived. That made Merlin feel a little guilty, but the swings overlooked the pond and the ducks that occupied it, and it was a nice view, so he supposed it couldn't have been too bad. Plus, Arthur's twinkling eyes were on him as he sat in the swing next to him, and he couldn't bear to say anything that would make that light die.

Once again, they completely avoided the subject of politics completely, deciding instead to talk about themselves and whatever else they could think of. In an hour, Merlin learnt that Arthur loved foreign films ( _Amélie_ was his favourite), he was learning to play the ukulele, and came up with the most terrible puns, as well as the fact that Uther had banned him from reading Merlin's blog and that he had left Morgana over 30 voicemails. The last two things made him sad, but he could tell Arthur didn't want to dwell on them, so he told him about himself instead. Nothing too important or personal, of course, but enough to repay what Arthur had told him. He told Arthur about Kilgharrah, and how him and Gwen and Mordred had met, and about how when Lance got sad or angry or excited he started talking rapidly in Spanish which was where Merlin had picked up most of the language from, and more about Gwaine and Percival's hopeless affection for each other. In the end, Merlin did most of the talking, but Arthur didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, he seemed glad to just listen, and smile or nod or laugh along with what Merlin was saying.

They both learnt that they had quite a bit in common. While Arthur loved photography, Merlin had a passion for painting, and their works, it turned out, had both been displayed in a small museum on the outskirts of London. Both of them knew all the words to every song Chuck Berry had ever written, and they ended up doing a modest rendition of Johnny B Goode which resulted in both of them almost falling off their swing from laughing so much. The closest they got to a political conversation was when they agreed that the lack of race representation in the media was absolutely atrocious. Both of them had absent parents; Merlin knew Arthur's mother had died very soon after he was born, and Merlin told Arthur that he had never met his father and had no idea where he was or if he was even still alive.

After discussing that, they fell silent for a while, watching the ripples in the water and gently swinging backwards and forwards, their slow breaths forming frosty clouds in the air. Finally, Arthur stood, and declared that he should get back before his father realises he's gone and becomes suspicious. Merlin nodded from his swing.

"We seemed to have swerved away from the subject again," Arthur said, smiling sheepishly with his hands buried deep in his pockets.

"Yeah," Merlin laughed, shrugging. "It's alright though. I had a nice time anyway."

"Oh, me too," Arthur said quickly, then suddenly turned his gaze to the ground. "Do you want to maybe-" he broke off, swallowed, and looked up again. His face was red, and Merlin half-hoped it wasn't just the cold. "-do this again? Like, just this? You know, not on business terms or anything?"

"You mean hang out?" Merlin asked slowly, his heart hammering and his stomach turning so intensely he feared he might throw up.

"Yeah!" Arthur said, nodding so suddenly that his hat almost slid off. "Hang out."

"I would really like to," Merlin told him, hoping he didn't sound too eager. "I have your number and everything, so-"

"Yeah," Arthur agreed, beaming. "I'll text you or something."

"Cool," Merlin nodded, smiling too.

They stayed still, just looking at each other for a few moments, before Arthur seemed to break out of the trance and cleared his throat. With a final wave, he turned on his heel and started towards the gate.

"See you round!" he called over his shoulder, and Merlin smiled after him, not caring for the moment that he was probably in very, _very_ deep water.

x

A lot of the time Gwaine and Percival spent together was in comfortable quiet, both of them doing their own thing while they sat close together, occasionally showing the other something or having a short conversation before it ebbed away into silence again. It was an unspoken agreement they had; they didn’t need to talk to have a nice time together. Just having each other’s presence was enough.

That afternoon, they were in Percival’s bedroom in his small flat, Gwaine lying with his head in Percy’s lap messing about on his phone while Percy was reading about America’s fight for independence from a battered old book he had borrowed from Gaius. The radio was playing quietly in the background, soft classical tunes filling the room as the light grey sky gradually gave way to a dusty evening blue. For about twenty minutes, Gwaine had been scrolling through twitter mindlessly, not really focussing on the words in front of his eyes, but instead becoming increasingly distracted by the feel of Percy’s chest gently rising and falling beneath his head. He had been thinking about telling Percival how he really felt about him, weighing up the benefits against potential risk of losing his best friend, losing sleep arguing with himself on whether or not he should say something. Eventually he had told himself firmly that he would confess the next day, but they had spent the entire morning together and he hadn’t said anything. Everytime he opened his mouth, his throat closed up and the words got lost before they could escape. Thankfully, Percival hadn’t seemed to notice if he was being odd, but it was getting close to 5pm and he was afraid that if he didn’t speak now, he would never do it.

Suddenly, he locked his phone and sat up. Percival dropped his book and sat up too, looking concerned suddenly.

“What’s up?” he asked, watching his face carefully.

“Nothing,” Gwaine lied quickly, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I was just wondering if you-”

He stopped, his mouth going dry. All of a sudden he felt a little queasy and his vision started to blur at the edges. Heat flared up in his stomach and crawled up to his neck.

“What?” Percival shuffled closer towards him, still looking a little worried.

“Just if you wanted-” Gwaine tried to continue, waving his hand vaguely and avoiding Percival’s eyes, “-you know.”

_Do it. Do it now! Do it!_

_I can’t do it._

“I wondered if you wanted to go down and grab something to eat before all the shops closed,” he said lamely, and the worry was wiped off Percy’s face.

“Oh, sure!” he smiled. “Are you staying the night then?”

“I guess,” Gwaine shrugged, feeling his shoulders droop and pulsing with frustration at himself.

“Alright!” Percy grinned, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. “I’ll get our coats.”

“‘Kay,” said Gwaine miserably, forcing a smile as Percival dashed out of the room. Once he had disappeared, Gwaine moved and sat perched on the edge of Percy’s bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and breathing deeply. Then he put his head in his hands and groaned, cursing his weak tongue. He stayed like that until Percival came back with their jackets, and then he stood up and had to pretend once again that the warm smile Percival saved for him wasn’t killing him a little bit inside.

x

Since Leon had come home, he and Arthur had been meeting up every couple of days to talk. After Morgana disappeared, he had stayed within the palace for a long time without seeing anyone, until Leon came to him and told him to spill everything, and his company, as always, made him feel significantly better. Then they had slipped back into their routine, and they chatted for hours together easily. As usual, Leon was waiting for him in a booth at the back of _the Rising Sun_ , having already bought two drinks.

“I’m in big trouble,” Arthur announced as he took his place opposite Leon. Leon didn’t even blink; he leant forward and steepled his fingers under his chin, ready to listen. “You know Merlin?”

“I do,” Leon nodded.

“I can’t stop _thinking_ about him,” Arthur said, before taking a long drink of whatever concoction Leon had bought for him. It was cold, but tasted alright. “He’s just on my mind _all the time_ and I-”

He groaned and dropped his head on the table.

“Oh boy,” Leon sighed, patting Arthur’s hair until he looked up again.

“This is serious,” Arthur insisted, grabbing Leon’s hands. “I haven’t liked anyone like this for years and here comes this guy who openly goes against everything my father stands for and-”

“You fall in love with him,” Leon finished, nodding.

“No!” Arthur yelped, then sighed. “Yeah. Why am I like this, Leon?”

“I can see why you like him,” Leon shrugged. “He’s nice.”

“Not just that,” Arthur said, shaking his head and taking another drink, “He’s funny, and has the nicest laugh, and waves his hands around he talks and his voice speeds up when he’s going on about something he loves and his eyes are so-”

He paused for breath, took a third swig and made vague hand gestures at Leon, who raised a hand.

“Tone down the gay, first of all,” Leon said, with an amused smile on his face so Arthur knew he was joking. “And on that subject, have you told your dad yet?”

“No,” Arthur sighed. “He’s inviting two MPs and their daughters for dinner tomorrow. I think he’s trying to set me up with one of them.”

“Don’t you think you should tell him then?” Leon urged. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

“And then what?” Arthur said, looking at his friend desperately. “Tell him I have a thing for a pro-magic activist? He’s got enough on his plate what with Morgana still missing.”

“You don’t have to tell him about that,” Leon said, “I’ll help you out with the Merlin thing.”

“But what if he gets angry,” Arthur fretted.

“He’s your father,” Leon told him gently, taking his hand. “I know both of you are having a hard time, but he cares about you, and I’m sure he won’t stop loving you for this. I mean, he had no problem continuing to care for me even after I told him my situation.”

With a sigh, and then a nod, Arthur admitted Leon was right. He smiled, finished off his drink, and felt ever so slightly better.

“I’ll tell him tomorrow, before the MPs arrive,” he decided, and Leon grinned proudly. “Now, you’ve got to tell me what the deal is with you and Elyan.”

x

When Merlin got home, Gaius was waiting for him, shuffling papers on his desk which he immediately dropped when Merlin entered.

“So?” he said immediately, looking at him over his glasses.

“So what?” Merlin responded, purposefully avoiding his gaze as he took of his bag and coat.

“What happened?” Gaius persisted.

“We just talked,” Merlin shrugged, but Gaius didn’t seem satisfied.

“ _And_?”

Merlin let out an irritated sigh.

“We didn’t fool around, if that’s what you want to know,” he snapped, then immediately regretted it when Gaius was silent for a long moment. Then, quieter, he spoke up again.

“Merlin,” he warned, but it was more gentle now.

“It’s just a dumb crush okay?” Merlin told him, his voice softer as well. “I’ll get over it.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Gaius said, shaking his head as Merlin sat down in the seat opposite him. “Even being friends with the prince is risky. If you were to-”

“I won’t,” Merlin cut in. “We won’t.”

“As long as you’re certain,” Gaius nodded. “Our country’s dangerous at the moment, and if anyone found out about your gifts, especially Arthur-”

“I know,” Merlin insisted. “He won’t find out. I’ll get over it.”

x

  1. _“Hi Morgana, it’s Arthur. I don’t know if you have your phone with you, but hey, just in case. I’m really worried about you. Dad and I both are. Please come back, we can talk things through.”_

  2. _“Hey, it’s Arthur again. I don’t know about dad, but I don’t care if you have magic. You’re my sister and that’s what matters. Come home, please, I miss you.”_

  3. _“Me again. I haven’t slept for a while, but- oh shit, that sounds like I’m trying to guilt trip you. I’m not, honestly, I just- fuck. Please come back.”_

  4. _“Please just give me some sort of sign that you’re okay. Dad hasn’t spoken to me unless my anxiety’s acted up, and it’s so horrible without you. I’m terrified.”_

  5. _“Please, Morgana, I can’t go on like this. Neither of us are sleeping. I’ve had nightmares about you dying, I’m so worried for you safety, I keep fearing the worst. Please, Morgana, forget the law, I just want my sister back. Please come home, I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you. You mean more to me than anyone else in the world, and if anything- shit. Don’t think about that. Just- Morgana, please.”_




Tears rolled slowly down Morgana’s face, dripping rhythmically onto the tiles of Gwen’s bathroom. Her hand shook as she held the phone against her ear, Arthur’s voice becoming increasingly distressed in her ear and causing her to curl up tighter. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bath, listening to almost a week’s worth of voicemails from her brother. There were _so many_ , and she could tell he had been crying or had just calmed down from an attack in a lot of them. It was ridiculous, but she wanted to go home, and apologise and make up with him. She knew she couldn’t, as there would be horrible consequences for her and probably Arthur as well, but she wished she could at least let Arthur know she was safe.

Despite her numb bare feet and freezing hands, she clutched the phone with a deathly strong grip, her whole body shaking with silent sobs as one voicemail stopped and another began, Arthur sounding more broken than before. No matter how much she hated her father, she couldn’t bear to hear her brother like this.

“Morgana?”

A knock accompanied Gwen’s concerned cry, and Morgana twitched, startled, and dropped the phone.

“I’m fine!” she called out, frantically wiping her eyes and scrambling for the phone.

“Are you sure?” Gwen called back, knocking again.

“Yeah,” Morgana said, standing up, turning the tap on and splashing her face quickly. “I’m coming.”

“Okay,” Gwen said uncertainly. “I’ve got some food ready if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll be right there, Morgana assured her.

She braced herself on the sink, taking deep breaths in and out. Then, she pressed stop on the voicemail still playing, selected the ones from Arthur, and, as a spur of the moment decision, deleted all fifty three of them. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (wondering what Leon's situation is? all will be revealed in the next chapter!)  
> also, more of your faves will appear and there'll be more magic shenanigans very soon :D  
> thoughts? questions? find me on tumblr at g4vroche !!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late!! I've had mock exams all this week so I've been RMAO (revising my ass off) but here's the next chapter regardless! Next week's update SHOULD be on time, though I've got three more exams so I can't make any promises. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy chapter 8!

Before he knew it, it was 6am, and he had been awake for almost the whole night. Thoughts of Merlin and Leon’s advice crashed mercilessly around his head and kept him from sleep until light seeped through his curtains and he blearily tried to blink away his headache, with no success. He lay in bed for another few hours, staring at his white ceiling and breathing in and out deeply, listening to the soft sounds outside his door to distract himself from thinking about how his father could potentially react to his news. He could hear frantic footsteps from outside. They were getting closer. Very quickly. Suddenly, his door was burst open and hit against the wall with a slam that jerked him into a sitting position. George stood in the doorway, breathless.

“Your guests are due to arrive in five minutes,” he panted, doing his best to retain his usual formality, “I think it would be advisable that you get up, sir.”

“Shit,” Arthur hissed, tossing his covers off and jumping to his feet which made George flinch, although he wasn’t sure if it was because of his language or his sudden movement. He didn’t have time to worry about it now.

“Shall I tell your father you’ll be down soon?” George suggested, pointing out of the door and looking desperate to leave.

“Yes, please,” Arthur nodded, already ravaging through his drawers.

“Right,” George said, and bolted away as fast as he could.

Quickly, Arthur pulled out a black shirt and his nice black jeans, hoping no one would notice that they were a little crinkled, and got dressed in record time. Then he rushed into his bathroom and splashed his face with water, pushing some into his hair with his fingers and messing it about until he looked presentable. As a final thought, he found the concealer Morgana had given him as a joke birthday gift last year and spread it over his face, covering the dark circles under his eyes and the blotchy patches of skin where he had rubbed it before hiding it away again and running downstairs. He knew he wouldn't be able to speak to his father before the guests arrived, and cursed himself for being so careless with his time.

His father was greeting them when he reached the top of the staircase. The two men were both tall and well-built, with greying hair and crisp, expensive-looking suits. Their daughters stood next to them, one short and one tall. With as much decorum as he could, Arthur descended the stairs and took his place next to his father.

"Arthur, you're here." his father greeted him with a nod and turned back to their guests. "My son, Arthur. Arthur, this is Rodor and his daughter Mithian, and Aulfric and his daughter Sophia."

"A pleasure," Arthur smiled, shaking the fathers' hands first and then the two girls'.

"The food will be served at one," Uther announced to them. "Arthur, see that the girls are comfortable until then. The three of us have much to discuss."

Arthur nodded, and the three men turned away and disappeared into another room. Almost immediately, Mithian let out a loud breath and put all her weight on one side instead of standing upright.

"No offence," she said to Arthur, "but your dad is terrifying."

A bark of laughter escaped Arthur's mouth, and Mithian grinned at him, running a hand through her dark hair and messing up the meticulously styled waves.

"He likes to be intimidating," Arthur replied, liking her already. He noticed Sophia was giving her a slightly disapproving look, but he ignored it. "He always has to look twice as scary to make up for me."

Mithian's laugh was high and quick, a sweet sound that made Arthur smile. Her eyes were a rich bronze, and they twinkled with a youthful mischief that matched her smirk. There was something about her that made him feel relaxed, and less tired than he had felt a mere few seconds ago. While Sophia seemed to glimmer with feminine charm and grace, Mithian was spunky, and somehow more intriguing.

The three of them moved upstairs to a small lounge, where George was waiting next to an assortment of drinks laid out on a cabinet. Arthur dismissed him, and the three of them spent a good hour getting to know each other, drinking at least three cups of tea each and eating bourbons straight from the packet. Both of them were witty and smart, although Sophia took a lot longer to relax than Mithian did. When she finally became less tense, she joined the other two on the floor around the tiny coffee table and laughed and made stupid jokes along with them. Arthur liked her, but he was slightly afraid of the bashful smiles she gave him and the occasional biting of her lower lip and coy brushing back of her hair. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

On the other hand, Mithian seemed to have no interest in flirting with him at all, which he was thankful for. Instead of giving him bedroom eyes or heavy-lidded smiles, she poked him, told terrible stories and threw sugar packets at him until George returned to inform them that their fathers were waiting for them downstairs.

Lunch was spent with Uther, Aulfric, and Rodor at one end of the table and Arthur, Mithian, and Sophia on the other, each trio engrossed in their own conversations. The laughter from the men was frequent and boisterous, though the others could never hear what it was they were laughing at. Whenever Arthur looked over at his father, he seemed to be genuinely happy and smiling like he hadn’t for a long time. It made Arthur more nervous about what he planned to tell him when they left, but he knew Leon was right. If he didn’t do it soon, it would only get worse. Also, he didn’t want Mithian or Sophia to think he was leading them on.

With that in mind, Arthur decided to let Mithian know. She was far easier to talk to than Sophia was, and she didn’t have to tendency to repeat anything exciting she heard in a loud, high-pitched voice like Sophia did, so when Sophia excused herself to the bathroom, Arthur tapped Mithian on the shoulder and leant in close.

“I suspect this is an attempt to find me someone to settle down with,” he whispered to her, “and don’t get me wrong, you’re lovely, but-”

“Terrifying and sneaky,” Mithian chuckled, cutting him off. “What a well-rounded father you have.”

“Aha, yeah, but-” Arthur tried to say again, fearing Mithian was missing the point.

“Don’t worry,” Mithian interrupted again, then lowered her voice even more, “I have a girlfriend.”

A huge weight lifted from Arthur’s chest at that. He couldn’t help the pleased grin spreading across his face.

“Oh?” he said, turning to face Mithian properly. “Tell me about her.” Mithian’s face brightened.

“Oh man,” she began, and Arthur laughed, “she’s just shorter than me, blonde, with the prettiest smile and the cutest laugh. She works in a Starbucks near Glass gardens, but she’s so clumsy she’s always burning herself the poor thing.”

That sounded oddly familiar.

“What’s her name?” Arthur asked.

“Elena,” Mithian announced, proudly, like she had made a great achievement. That was probably how she saw it.

“I think I met her,” Arthur told her excitedly. “My, um,”

He stopped. Was Merlin his friend? He supposed so, but it felt odd saying it anyway. It wasn’t as if they had made it ‘official’, or given each other any indication that the friendship was there between them. Of course, Arthur hoped Merlin saw him as a friend, but he couldn’t be completely sure. Nevertheless, Merlin wasn’t there, and he was sure it wouldn’t be completely ridiculous of Arthur to call him his friend.

“-my friend is friends with her.”

“Really?” Mithian enthused, “She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?”

“She’s lovely,” Arthur agreed, finding the way Mithian’s eyes were alive and bursting with affection incredibly endearing.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Mithian said, taking Arthur’s hand suddenly. “Before Sophia and her bedroom eyes get back. I know it’s a while away, but my dad is having a small gathering for christmas, and he keeps pestering me to invite some friends. The poor man doesn’t realise that everyone at my college are awful.”

Arthur scoffed loudly, seeing that Mithian wasn’t looking for sympathy.

“So you want me to be the guest of honour?” Arthur joked, and she smiled, rolling her eyes.

“Something like that,” she said. “I was going to ask if you would come and bring some of your friends. I’m sure that if they pass your test of approval, they’ll pass mine too.”

“I’ll get them in training ASAP,” Arthur promised, and they both laughed, just as Sophia returned. As she sat back down, Arthur failed to miss the dirty look she was shooting in Mithian’s direction. This seemed to spark a thought, and he glanced at his father. To his dismay, he seemed to be observing the interaction he had with Mithian and getting the wrong idea, as he was smiling to himself. They were awfully close. Suddenly, coming out to his father seemed like the worst idea in the world.

x

When they left, Uther still seemed to be in an incredibly good mood, so Arthur decided to get it over and done with before he fell back into his brooding. He chased after him all the way up to his large office, answering all his questions about how he liked the girls, if he had a nice time, would he like to see them again, all the while trying not to throw up. Finally, they reached the door to his office, and he felt like he might faint and he followed his father over the threshold.

“Dad,” he said, as confidently as he could when Uther stopped talking and sat down at his desk. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” his father asked, sitting up straight and fixing his son with a weighty look. He didn’t look stern, but Arthur was still terrified. “You can tell me anything.”

“Well, I was going to say something before Mithian and Sophia arrived,” Arthur admitted, taking a sudden interest in his feet. “But then I slept late and um-” he stopped, took a deep breath and swallowed. His heart pounded in his ears. “I know you want me to find a girl to settle down with or whatever but I’m not-” his mouth went dry and the words seemed to get tangled in his throat. He could see his father out of the corner of his eye, watching him in silence, and his stomach churned painfully. If his ears got any hotter, he feared his hair might catch fire. “-I don't like girls like that I-”

Suddenly, he breathed in sharply without meaning to; it was a feeble attempt at holding down a sob, but he had said it now. It was out in the open. He refused to look up at his father, but he heard movement and only shut his eyes tighter, waiting for Uther to come and hit him or tell him he was being stupid, or something.

Nothing like that happened. Before he realised what was happening, he felt arms around him and someone pulling him close, and with a jolt he realised it was his father. Slowly, he opened his eyes and moved his head up as far as he could while cased in his dad’s grasp, hesitantly bringing his arms up to hug back.

“Arthur,” came his father’s voice from above him, “you're my son. You're my son, and I love you no matter what choices you make, including who you decide to fall in love with.”

The King let Arthur go and held him by the shoulders at arm’s length, a smile on his face.

“But I thought-” Arthur began, his breathing still heavy, still shaking a little where he stood.

“It wasn't a plan to find you a girlfriend,” Uther told him, chuckling fondly. “I hoped you three would make friends. Sometimes you just seem so...lonely.”

“Oh,” Arthur responded lamely. “Sorry for assuming.”

“Don't apologise,” Uther said, shaking his head. “I just want you to be happy.”

“You're not angry?” Arthur asked, dazed and still unable to process the reality. “You're not upset?”

“Of course not,” Uther told him. “My only worry is the public’s reaction. It won't be easy.”

“I know,” Arthur admitted, shuffling his feet. “I'm starting small, I guess.”

Uther laughed, and Arthur suddenly felt a lot lighter.

“We’ll figure it out together, okay?” Uther smiled, bringing Arthur into another quick hug.

“Okay,” Arthur breathed into his father’s shoulder, a smile splitting his face as his mind slowly caught up with what was going on.

“Good,” he said finally, releasing his son again. “Now leave me. I'm going away tonight to visit a relative of Ygraine’s for the weekend. You'll be alright on your own, won't you?”

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, close to being breathless. “Thanks dad,” he grinned, then turned and made his way to the doorway.

“Arthur,” he heard behind him just before he could exit, and he spun around again to see his father still smiling fondly at him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad,” he smiled, and closed the door behind him.

x

It was really a last minute, spur-of-the-moment decision to invite Merlin to the palace. Since his father was away, he thought, why not hang out in a place where neither of them were in danger of being seen together. The servants might seem it a little odd, but he knew they wouldn't snitch. They knew it was none of their business, really.

Whatever the case, Merlin was with him in the large lounge on the ground floor, at the opposite end of the huge sofa to him, laughing at something he’d said and glowing under the dim golden light of the chandelier. Arthur didn't stop staring at him once. His eyes sparkled as the light bouncing off the crystals reflected in them, making them even brighter and mesmerising than usual. His laugh didn't grow tiresome, even after the  two hours they spent there, catching up on each other’s lives and talking about whatever came to mind. Their bare feet often touched as they shuffled on the sofa, and Arthur had a hard time pretending it wasn't sending flames up his skin. For once, he was glad for the awful lighting in this room. Not only did it hide his almost constant blushing, but the rays illuminated Merlin’s face and made his profile look more defined, more chiselled and almost statue like, so when he turned to the side he was almost a silhouette, with liquid gold beams spilling over his cheekbones and framing his jaw and running down his neck. It was hard not to stare at him. The rapid beating of Arthur’s heart and drying up of his mouth was also unhelpful, and he was surprised he managed to always stay eloquent with Merlin looking like that, but he didn't seem to notice anything peculiar about Arthur’s behaviour. Sometimes, Arthur would catch Merlin staring at him back from the corner of his eye, and hope would flutter briefly in his chest before he turned his head and Merlin was looking at his hands again.

Still, the smile on his face was one he had never seen him give any of his friends. And the look in his eyes was almost adoring. Like maybe, just maybe, he was admiring Arthur secretly as well. It was probably wishful thinking on Arthur’s part, but often he would notice Merlin looking at him just slightly too long to be considered just friendly.

Then suddenly they weren't just slouching on opposite sides of the sofa. They were sitting in front of each other, fingertips barely centimetres away, facing each other full on. Neither of them fully remembered when or how they moved to be so close. It was all a blur, and suddenly, they could hear each other's soft breathing and Arthur could see the gold specks in Merlin’s eyes reflected from the chandelier, and Merlin could just see the faint spattering of freckles over Arthur’s nose and cheeks. It was a blur, but both their hearts were drumming mercilessly against their chests, and sparks were devouring their minds. Every part of them was almost, but not quite, touching. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, and some part of both of them warned against it, but the sudden closeness and warmth radiating from the other was so overwhelming. Merlin caught Arthur unmistakably glancing at his mouth, and he watched his eyes as they hurriedly flicked back up to meet his again. Those gorgeous, galaxy blue eyes, full of stars and unknown depths. They were mesmerising, framed by long eyelashes that fluttered gently whenever he blinked, and Merlin felt himself swallowing as suddenly, they came to rest on Arthur’s cheeks and stayed put, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and leant ever so slightly further in. Then Merlin felt his eyes close too, and he felt a soft, feather-light breath over his lips before-

The loud squawking of Merlin’s phone seemed to jolt the two of them to reality, and the world was suddenly sharp and in focus once more. A white light from the screen glared and cut through the lounge’s light, breaking whatever spell had settled on the room, although Merlin’s heart was still hammering. He couldn't tell whether it was because of the shock of his phone ringing, or because of what had almost just happened. As he reached for the table and picked the phone up, he wondered if he had imagined it, or if his brain was just having a very hard time keeping up.

“Hello?” he said, trying to ignore Arthur’s look of panicked dismay from next to him.

“Merlin I'm-” came Gwaine's voice from the other side, and really Merlin should have expected that it was him, “-I'm in your house and I'm um-”

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked, noticing the familiar slur in Gwaine's voice and suddenly growing worried for a whole other reason.

“Not really,” Gwaine laughed, and Merlin cursed under his breath. “No I'm-”

He continued to garble something down the line, but Merlin was already on his feet packing his things up. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Arthur get up too.

“I'm coming now,” Merlin told him, turning to Arthur and nodding his head in the direction of the door. Arthur nodded, showing he understood, and the two of them jogged to the palace exit. “Hang in there, okay?”

“Anything for you, Merl,” Gwaine sang loudly, followed by a loud crash and a groan.

“Fuck,” Merlin hissed, as Arthur opened the door for him. “I'm gonna hang up now, yeah?”

“Bye bye, beautiful!” Gwaine said loudly, laughing loudly, and Merlin hung up the phone.

“Sorry I've, um-” Merlin said, turning to Arthur as he stepped out into the darkness. “Gwaine’s-”

“You don't have to explain,” Arthur said hurriedly. “Just uh-”

“I’ll see you soon,” Merlin promised, answering Arthur’s question and dashing off into the night.

“Okay!” Arthur called after him, watching him until he disappeared. Then he shut the door, leant against it and sighed loudly to himself.

God, of all the stupid things he had ever done, this had to be the worst. He peeled himself away from the door and trudged upstairs, with a horrible feeling that he had already ended something that hadn't even started.  **  
**

x **  
**

“You have a nice house,” Elyan told Leon decidedly as the two of them made their way upstairs to Leon’s room.

It was odd that, even after being friends for almost a year and a half, none of them had ever been to Leon’s house. Finally, Leon had decided to change that and invited Elyan over to stay for a while. Elyan had accepted gladly.

“My mum’s a bit of a clean freak,” Leon told him, shrugging. “She won't go near my room though, it's a mess.”

“Can't be worse than Gwaine’s,” Elyan laughed, and Leon had to agree.

“You're not wrong the-”

“Hannah!”

Suddenly Leon’s blood ran cold. His mum wasn't supposed to be back for another hour. It was Saturday, and she always worked late Saturdays. Yet there was the unmistakable sound of the door being opened and shut, and bags being put down, and his mother’s shrill announcement that she was back. He felt Elyan’s eyes on him, and his whole body felt like it had turned to ice. His breath stopped short. His vision blurred.

“Hannah!” she yelled again, and Leon felt his fists clench so hard that his nails dug into his palms. “Hannah, your friend won't stop calling my phone! Is yours off or something?”

“I didn't know you had a sister,” Elyan said, and Leon thought he might pass out as he heard his voice. Slowly, fear pulsing through every crevice of his body, he turned to look at Elyan, trying his best to hold eye contact despite the wetness making his eyesight fuzzy. His words were barely above a whisper; a mere breath.

“I don't.” **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? comments? talk to me on tumblr at [g4vroche](http://g4vroche.tumblr.com/) <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is late but my mocks are over and i start christmas break tomorrow so i'll be back on schedule! thanks for being so patient <3
> 
> note: mental illness talk in the first part of this chapter, in case you feel you might want to skip that.

Merlin's heart didn't stop pounding for his entire journey home, and in his worry, he found it near impossible to open the door. Finally he managed to force the key into the lock and shove the door open, running down the hallway to the living room and bolting inside. There was Gwaine, sprawled out on his back on the sofa with an empty bottle of cheap liquor dangling from his limp hand, eyes closed but still, thankfully, breathing lightly. As Merlin moved towards him, he almost tripped over the numerous other bottles scattered on the rug, making his stomach churn with more worry.

"Gwaine," Merlin hissed, kneeling at his side and shaking him. He didn't stir, except to let out a loud, shaky breath which sent fear running through Merlin. "Gwaine!" he said again, louder, shaking him a little harder, but his breathing only grew more shallow and staggered.

Panicking, Merlin scrambled to remember what Leon had done the last time this happened, but he couldn't seem to pull out the memory, and anyway he was terrified of doing something stupid and risking making it worse. Instead, he cradled Gwaine's face in both hands, tipping his head up slightly and leant over him, covering his mouth carefully with his own and blowing puffs of air, as steadily as he could in his panic. The smell of cheap alcohol was fierce in his breath, almost making Merlin gag, but still he repeated this three times, and finally Gwaine's breathing grew ever so slightly steadier. But his eyes didn't open, and his body stayed frighteningly stiff. Stomach churning violently, Merlin knelt back and moved his hand to rest on Gwaine's chest, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He concentrated all his energy into saving Gwaine, breathing in and out steadily until he felt a new, warmer heat rising inside him. This was dangerous, but he knew his goal, and caution was thrown to the wind.

" _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare_ " he whispered, keeping his voice as strong as possible, and he felt his eyes burn as a warmth like fire flowed down his arm and into his fingers. He saw Gwaine’s hand twitch suddenly, and he took in a sharp breath, but his eyes stayed closed. So Merlin tried again, the furious rushing of blood in his ears almost drowning his voice. This was a more powerful spell that he had only recently started to get the hang of, but he was determined to get it right now. The alcohol had flooded through him and started climbing around inside his body, spreading poision in his veins. If this worked, Merlin could draw it out and get his heart beating properly again. “ _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sund-_ ”

A huge burst of energy surged through Merlin’s chest, making him fall forward a little and gasp as his whole body burned with the power he was using. With gritted teeth, he positioned his hand back over Gwaine’s heart and tried to ignore the pain and not think about how much this would drain him. “ _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ_.”

Suddenly, Gwaine gasped and his eyes flew open as he sat bolt upright, breathing in heavily and clutching at his chest like he was drowning. His face was pale and sweaty, with dark circles under his eyes, but when he turned and saw Merlin, it lit up like he hadn’t just almost died.

“Merlin!” he breathed, sounding ridiculously excited, before his stomach gave an angry growl and he covered his mouth, groaning. Then he swung off the sofa and dashed in the direction of the bathroom, and barely five seconds later Merlin could hear violent retching and coughing. At least he was alive. When Gwaine came back, he looked miserable, but still managed a grimace in Merlin’s direction.

“What were you _doing_?” Merlin asked him, voice shaking slightly but still snappy. “You almost gave me a heart attack you idiot, I thought you were going to _die_!”

To his credit, Gwaine gave him a sheepish look and didn’t even flinch when Merlin smacked his shoulder.

“I wasn’t thinking-” he started to explain.

“That’s for sure!” Merlin yelled, still in a state of panic. “God, I-”

“I’m sorry,” Gwaine said quietly, rubbing his face tiredly with one hand and gesturing towards the empty bottles with the other. “I just started thinking about stuff, and I got really low and I just couldn’t stop after a while.”

“This hasn’t happened for so long,” Merlin said, calming down a little at Gwaine’s somber tone and sitting down next to him. “What made you feel so low?”

“This is so lame,” Gwaine sighed, putting his face in his hands. “I tried to ask Percy out earlier and-”

“He said no?” Merlin asked incredulously, unable to believe that.

“No,” Gwaine shook his head. “I couldn’t do it at all I got all choked up and- ugh, Merlin, I’m so pathetic.”

His shoulders slumped forward and he sighed again, looking sadder than Merlin had seen him for months. It had been so long since Gwaine had had a low so bad that he had tried to drink himself to death, but only the year before he had been to hospital three times until finally, he consulted a professional and got told he had severe depression. For weeks after, he was a wreck, barely talking to anyone or leaving his flat, until eventually his friends decided to do something about it. Elyan got him a referral to a counselor and Leon dragged him out every day to go for long walks, until he started to feel a little better and seemed much happier. He constantly reassured them that he sessions with his counselor were helping and his moods were improving, and until that moment, it seemed to be the truth. They all noticed that he seemed moody a lot when Percival came up in conversation, but none of them ever expected it was this bad, or that it would send him over the edge.

“You’re not pathetic,” Merlin assured him, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “It’s not an easy thing to do, admit your feelings for someone. You’ve known Percival for years and I can understand you not wanting to mess anything up. You’re not pathetic. It’s not your fault you have feelings, and worries, and you shouldn’t dismiss them. You’re one of the bravest people I know, and it makes me so sad to see you like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Gwaine mumbled again, leaning into Merlin a little but not meeting his eyes. “I know I’m a burden.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Merlin said, shaking his head, “and you’re not a burden. You’re my friend and I only want to be there for you.”

To Merlin’s surprise, Gwaine started to laugh, a little weakly and still hoarse, but laughing nevertheless.

“There aren’t many people like you, Merlin,” he said. “You’ve saved my life so many times, and I’m not just talking about waking me up from drunk stupor. You do it every day, you and everyone else, just by being my friends. You know? I’d be dead without all of you.”

“What are friends for?” Merlin smiled, rubbing Gwaine’s shoulder affectionately. “Stay at mine for a while yeah?”

“So you can keep an eye on me?” Gwaine asked jokingly, but he was smiling a little more genuinely now.

“Well you know Elyan loves to call me the mother hen,” Merlin replied, rolling his eyes and moving to the kitchen to get Gwaine some water. He heard the soft padding of Gwaine’s feet behind him, and felt his friend’s arms wrap around him as he stood at the sink.

“Thanks,” Gwaine said softly, his breath tickling Merlin’s neck, and Merlin smiled. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Merlin laughed, and he meant it.

x

After the first few minutes, Arthur wasn’t sure how long he ranted to Leon about what happened at the palace a few hours earlier. As usual, Leon seemed to be listening intently without feeling the need to interrupt, but Arthur was almost certain that he was boring him almost to tears. Still, he couldn’t stop. Their mouths had come within less than an _inch_ of each other, and Arthur’s heart was still pounding in his ears. He was a little concerned about why Merlin seemed to frantic, but he was more worried that he had done something stupid and Merlin wouldn’t want to see him anymore. He hadn’t seemed hostile when he stood at the door, but Arthur was terrible at reading emotions. Or maybe Merlin did feel the same after all. It wasn’t as if he had backed away. In fact, it had almost seemed as if he initiated it. He told Leon all of this, with very few pauses for breath, in a state of giddy excitement, until he saw Leon take in a sharp breath, and suddenly stopped. This was something he’d done since they were young; it meant he was trying not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, taking a breath in. “I’m going on. What’s wrong?”

“Elyan found out,” he replied quietly, his eyes glazing over, and Arthur swore he felt his heart stop.

“ _What_?” he breathed, leaning in closer and gripping his friend’s hand immediately. “How?”

“My mum came home early and she-” he broke off and breathed in sharply again, swallowing a sob, “-she deadnamed me and Elyan thought Hannah was my sister or something but I said I didn’t have any siblings and he figured it out and-”

“How did he react?” Arthur asked, the sight of his best friend so close to tears making him forget all his troubles and want to cry himself.

“I don’t really know,” Leon shrugged, breathing heavily to try and stop the tears spilling over. “I went downstairs and he followed me and I asked him to leave.”

“Didn’t you see his face?”

“He just looked shocked,” Leon told him, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, but to no avail. More tears just kept coming. “He didn’t say anything until I told him to get out. He was just like, ‘but you-’ and I told him to leave again and he did.”

“He might have been perfectly fine with it,” Arthur insisted. “It must have been a shock, but at least he wasn’t immediately disgusted.”

“I know,” Leon said, shaking his head and putting it in his hands. “But I didn’t want to find out. What if he hates me for it?”

“Then why would you want to date him?” Arthur pointed out. “If he’s transphobic, you shouldn’t even be friends with him let alone want him as a boyfriend. Anyway, you don’t know he’s transphobic, you didn’t give him a chance to prove otherwise. You should talk to him.”

“Oh, _no_ ,” Leon insisted, laughing almost hysterically. “No I can’t do that.”

“You have to,” Arthur told him firmly. “Give him the opportunity to let you know how he feels about it, and if he despises you then you can move on. Otherwise you’ll be living in uncertainty, and take it from me, that’s even worse.”

“How can I face him after-?”

“You’re AFAB, you’re not some freak,” Arthur said. “It’s not something you should be ashamed of and want to hide from people in order to impress them. I know I’m cis and I’m speaking from a position of privilege here, but isn’t it better to get it out of the way quickly?”

“No, no, you’re right,” Leon admitted, sniffing and rubbing his eyes more.

“Anyway, isn’t Mordred openly nonbinary and friends with Elyan?” Arthur went on, taking Leon’s hands reassuringly in his again. “Why should he act any differently to you?”

“True,” Leon nodded, his face gradually becoming less despairing.

“And hey, if he is understanding, he’ll probably be wanting to talk to you about it. He’ll probably be worried you’ll avoid him or resent him or something. Take it from someone who’s feeling that same thing right now.”

“Okay, well,” Leon laughed, still a little teary, “if I sort my shit out with Elyan, you have to talk to Merlin about your almost-kiss.”

“Ah, so you _were_ listening!” Arthur grinned, squeezing Leon’s hand as the mood lightened considerably.

“Of course I was,” Leon rolled his eyes. “You’re hard to ignore.”

He had to duck to avoid the flurry of peanuts that Arthur tossed in his direction.

x

Early the next morning, Merlin was woken from a light sleep by a loud knocking on his door. He has spent the night on the sofa, allowing Gwaine to take the bed despite his protests, and his neck was aching badly from the awkward position he had nodded off in. Rubbing his eyes and stretching himself out before standing, he trudged wearily to the door, his eyes still taking time to adjust to the daylight. With a yawn, he unlocked the door and opened it. It was Percival.

“Merlin!” he said in greeting. He looked frightened. “Is Gwaine with you? Is he alright? He won't answer my calls or anything and I was worried-”

“He's in a very bad state at the moment,” Merlin told him, sounding a little more bitter than he had meant to. “I don't think visitors are a good idea.”

“But I just want-” Percy protested, trying to push inside.

“I'm taking care of him,” Merlin insisted, blocking the doorway. “He’ll be fine, but you shouldn't disturb him.”

“Okay,” Percival said finally, stepping back and looking a little dejected. Merlin felt guilty at that, but this was the right thing to do. He thought. “Let me know when he feels better.”

“I will,” Merlin said, and shut the door before Percival could say anything else.

He knew it wasn't really Percival’s fault at all, but if Gwaine saw him he'd probably only get more upset. It was wrong of him to be angry with Percy, but Merlin couldn't help feeling that things would be different if Percival was more vocal about his own feelings. Anyone who watched them could see Gwaine was the one who wanted to tell the world that he loved his best friend more than anything, and Percy was fine for only Gwaine to know, but if Percy was more obvious about it-

No. It wasn't Percy's fault. But still, it was better that he kept his distance from Gwaine for the time being, at least until Gwaine was more like his usual perky self. It was for the best.

x

Elsewhere, Elyan was battling through the pouring rain to see his sister, the wind whipping at him mercilessly, as if it didn't want him to make it to Gwen’s flat. The sky was grey, and miserable, which only made him feel worse than he already did, and his mind was swirling like the slate silvery clouds above him. Finally, he turned onto Gwen’s street and made a dash for her front door, although the water had already soaked through his three layers of clothing. Shivering slightly, he took out his key, unlocked the front door and jogged up the stairs to the first floor, taking his wet jacket off as he approached her door. As he opened the door, he heard frantic whispering and scrambling from inside, and suddenly worried for his sister’s safety, barged inside just in time to see the princess climbing over the sofa as if she was about to bolt.

“Your highn-” he began, mouth falling open and looking first at Morgana, then at her sister, who looked panicked, and almost immediately dashed around behind Elyan and shut the door.

“Elyan, you can’t tell _anyone_ ,” she said quietly, fixing him with a fierce gaze and holding him by the wrists.

“You’re keeping the _princess_ in your flat?” he breathed, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You know this puts you both in _huge_ danger.”

“I know,” Gwen insisted, unwavering. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Aghast, Elyan looked over again at Morgana, who had climbed down from the sofa and was standing with her shoulders hunched, looking nervously at him like he would decide her fate. He couldn’t help noticing she was wearing Gwen’s favourite yellow cardigan, and had to stop himself sighing. His sister had always been willing to sacrifice everything for the princess, and it seemed that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Nothing he could say would change her mind.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. “You have to be _so_ careful though Gwen, if anything happened to either of you-”

“It won’t,” Morgana insisted, stepping forward quickly, then stopping, as if she felt out of place, which was ridiculous. She was still royalty even if a huge amount of the population despised her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

She held his gaze, and an understanding passed between them. It was obvious, and always had been, that Gwen and Morgana felt the same way about each other. They always looked at each other a little too long to just be best friends, and Morgana would give up her own safety if it meant Gwen would be better off, just as Gwen would for her. Elyan trusted that she wouldn’t let anything happen to his sister.

“Fine,” he said finally, “but can you help me with something?”

“Anything,” Gwen nodded, moving back to the sofa and gesturing for him to follow.

“You can’t repeat this to anyone either,” he told them, and they both nodded. “I accidentally found out that Leon is, um, what’s the term? Assigned female at birth? It’s something like that, anyway, and I was a little shocked but it doesn’t bother me or anything-”

“Did you say anything rude?” Gwen asked, straight-faced, not at all fazed by this news. “Anything that might have hurt his feelings?”

“No!” Elyan assured her. “He didn’t give me the chance. He went downstairs and I followed him and he asked me to leave. I think I protested because I wanted to let him know it was cool and didn’t affect my opinion of him at all but he really wanted me out of there so I thought it was the right thing - it was all a bit of a blur really.”

“Oh, Elyan,” Gwen sighed, shaking her head. “You have to talk to him. He’s probably freaking out right now.”

“He obviously doesn’t want me around-” Elyan protested.

“He probably sent you away because he assumed you’d stop wanting to see him and he didn’t want to hear it from you personally,” Gwen told him, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Why would I-?” Elyan tried to ask, taken aback.

“Because some people are assholes and he was probably scared,” Gwen insisted.

“You should ring him now,” Morgana put in, and when he turned to her she was smiling reassuringly. “The sooner you two understand each other the better, right?”

“Right,” Gwen agreed, jumping off the sofa and handing her brother the house phone. “Ring him now.”

“Right n-”

“Right now.”

With a deep sigh, Elyan stared at the phone in his hands, suddenly overcome with nerves. Nevertheless, he slowly typed in Leon’s mobile number and jabbed the call button, holding it up to his ear, the dial tone sounding ominous and almost deafening alongside the thrumming of his heart. It was a long time before he picked up, and he sounded groggy when he answered.

“Hello?” he said, voice more croaky than normal.

“Leon,” he blurted immediately. “It’s me, it’s uh, it’s Elyan.”

“Elyan,” Leon gasped, and Elyan heard scrambling through the line. “Hi, I was just about to call you, actually.”

“Oh?” Elyan asked, his voice raising in pitch suddenly. He noticed that Gwen and Morgana had got up and left him alone. “I, uh, thought you were angry with me.”

“Why would I be angry with you?” Leon scoffed, although it sounded slightly hysterical. “I lied to you.”

“You didn't lie,” Elyan said quickly, holding the phone tighter every second. “You’ve never lied to me.”

“You mean my um-” Leon paused, swallowing hard, “-circumstances of birth aren’t freaking you out or anything?”

“I don’t care about your circumstances of birth,” Elyan told him. “What matters to me is who you are now, and I know you as Leon, and as a male, so that’s who I think of you as. That hasn’t changed, and unless you decide it should, it never will.”

“Oh,” was all he got in response, followed by a few moments filled with what sounded like heavy breathing. Then he heard Leon’s soft laughter over the phone, and a smile wormed its way onto his face. “I’m glad.”

“So am I allowed back in your house now?” Elyan asked jokily, grinning at the gentle sighing that indicated Leon was still smiling just as widely as he was.

“Wh- oh, yeah,” Leon laughed, sounding out of breath. “Sorry about kicking you out.”

“It’s alright,” Elyan said. “Although I did want to ask you something and I never got the chance.”

“Oh?” Leon sounded nervous again suddenly, his breath stopping for a second.

“Yeah,” Elyan went on, taking a deep breath in and clenching the hand that wasn’t holding the phone into a fist, digging his nails into his palm. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime? Like, um, on a date.”

Again, Leon stopped talking for a few moments, but suddenly he breathed out a loud laugh and the soft puffs that meant he was smiling returned.

“Really?” he asked, breathlessly, and Elyan couldn’t help but laugh too, a little shakily, but indescribably happy.

“Yeah, really,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and listening to Leon’s delighted giggles.

“I would love to,” he said, and Elyan’s chest exploded with warmth. “That would be great uh, are you free tomorrow?”

“I think so!” Elyan said excitedly, practically giddy. “Tomorrow sounds good.”

“Okay! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

x

Arthur’s finger had been hovering over the send button for a good few minutes. So far he had deleted and rewritten his text to Merlin seven times, but he was still hesitant to send it.

_I've tried calling you a few times but you didn’t answer. Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry._

It sounded clingy, and he wasn’t sure if their friendship was strong enough for him to start acting like an overly attached boyfriend. Nothing in their relationship felt at all established, and it set Arthur on edge, especially now that Merlin seemed to be ignoring him. The rational part of his brain told him that Merlin was most likely just busy, but everywhere else told him that Arthur had done something stupid and read Merlin’s signals wrong and set him off running away never to return. He hoped above all that that wasn’t the case, but his mind wasn’t able to keep the possibilty out.

With a sigh, he leant forward and put his phone down, planning to wait and send the message if he still heard nothing after at least another day, but his thumb just about hit the screen and a green bubble popped up, showing that he had sent it. He cursed, and grabbed it again, searching for some way to delete it although he knew there wasn’t one. His head pounded mercilessly, thoughts swirling and making him dizzy, and before he knew it he had dropped his phone on the table and dashed out of the room and upstairs, as if running away from it would make the problem go away.

Of course, the rational part of his mind knew that wasn’t the case, and for once, the rational part of his mind seemed to be the only part he could hear.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr url is [festivitony](http://festivitony.tumblr.com/) for the holidays! come talk to me about this fic or whatever else you want :)


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